


Breathe

by FeatherQuill



Category: Hannibal (TV) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Children of Characters, Divorce, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-05-16 20:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5839288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherQuill/pseuds/FeatherQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hugh feels like he is the worst person on earth and Mads wonders what on earth his problem is - the heart wants what it wants after all , which is easier said than done in their line of work</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :) Well, this is my first story in this fandom and I apologize for timeline differences regarding some events - in advance. Actually this is a gift for a friend who encouraged me to post it anyways and is a lovely person that means the world to me. That being said , I hope you enjoy this at least a little and let me know what you think <3

Mads is a far cry from Hannibal. Very so, as Hugh fondly remembers on days he dares to dream a little. Oh how he has learned that dreams are a dangerous territory because, well – they are something people want and yet often slip through their fingers. It is in dreams when he not looks at Claire with something close to resignation and wants to kick himself for that so much that he actually gets sick. She doesn´t say a word to him, though. She observes until the point he throws up his breakfast all over the bathroom floor. She watches from the doorway, arms crossed and her son send off to play in his room.

“It´s him, isn´t it.”

He looks ghostly pale in the artificial light that surrounds him and he closes his eyes. Oh, there are many answers to it and he could pretend to not know what she is talking about but – he just can´t. She just looks at him.

“I don´t blame you.”

She says, more rational than he would have ever thought of her, more rational than he would have wanted if he is quite honest, but he doesn´t say a word. For a moment he feels like someone has sewn his mouth shut. God, he hates it. Hates that he wants to deny it but can´t. He wishes that he would be more like Mads than – having that casual, almost vulgar way of going about things but he is just..well – he is himself. A chuckle rises in his throat before Claire starts talking again.

“I talked to Hanne, you know. Not that she was surprised.”

There is something else in there, something he knows to not ask her about but she is faster than him. 

“We are actors, all of us. You should know that everybody in that work of line is able to tell when they are fucking lied to. Not that Mads did.”

She doesn´t even raise her voice and he stands, feels like a man about to be hanged but all that comes out is a sigh.

“And?”

God, a fine actor he is, not able to string simple words together, to give it answer that will get him out of the mess he has gotten himself to but is not man enough to admit. All of a sudden he wants to cry and shout, a fuzzy and fleeting thought that he isn´t the One that should be so upset. That she is the One of them that should drop her mask and yell at him, slap him , scream that she loves him but she doesn´t. She never was that kind of person to begin with nor will she ever be. 

“If that is all you can say, you know the answer already.”

Her eyes water for a brief moment but she composes herself even quicker – an actors instinct really, before leaving him to wallow in his own misery. He wonders if it will make it´s way into the tabloids but he knows that she wouldn´t do that, not because of him for there is nothing more dangerous than a woman scorned but there is the matter of their son and he knows that she loves the boy more than anything else in the world. With a world weary sigh he rises to his shaky feet, trying to walk and feeling like a newborn while reaching for his phone. He moves to the garden and despite it being freezing cold in Canada he stands barefoot in the Snow, trying to figure out what to say – before he does get a word out after hearing that voice, he hangs up. It takes him about ten calls until Mads finally snaps at him to quit the fucking shit and come over to where they are staying for the duration of the shooting. Well, no - Hannibal wouldn´t phrase it quite like that, he gets it.   
Mads has a few thoughts on the matter himself, has seen enough of Hugh beating himself up over something that happened before either of them had been married or had fathered a child. Two in his case. It wasn´t that he didn´t love Hanne, didn´t respect her for what she did and what she put up with – it never was something he had expected but it had been something he had been grateful for and still was.   
So what if Hugh and him did sleep together back in the day? It wasn´t all that special for co workers to do that occasionally and he honestly hadn´t expected that more would come out of it. Until Bryan Fuller had come along and when he had told Lars as to what his problem was, Lars – the gigantic moron that even back in the day had egged him on until he had stolen a car and done more misdeeds than his parents had known – had laughed. He had laughed and laughed until Mads, silent as stone had began wondering if he had finally gone off to the deep end. 

Naturally, he hadn´t but had garbled something about Martin Freeman owning him money and sounding very pleased by it because apparently he was still sour about the amount of money he himself had lost to Martin in the Pace/Armitage wager the two of them did have going on back in the day. 

“Thanks brother.”

Mads had said drily, looking for the cigarettes he kept hidden in the kitchen cupboard and deciding it was time to quit his quitting of smoking, because -well. Now, in the present, he was standing in the kitchen, trying to get the pounding in his head under control. There were many things to consider and that the most prominent wasn´t what their wifes thought but the press following them around all the while was something that made him chuckle and raid said cupboard for the bottle of Whiskey he had hidden behind cookbooks neither of them had much use for and frowned when he came up empty handed. He could hear her footsteps and the clinking of glasses on the table behind him and the clearing of a throat. 

“That bad, huh?”

Her eyes were kind and warm , the fact that had made him fall in love with her in the first place and she still hadn´t changed much in all the years they had known each other. Soft spoken where he could only shout, emotional where he couldn´t even express his feelings to himself. They were happy, that much was sure but there were temptations. One of them had been Hugh and she had known the moment she had seen them interact and act together. Bryan had been in wondrous shock and had clapped like a five year old that was overly excited. 

“Yeah, you could say that.”

She gives him a weary smile, eyes on the horizon somewhere he cannot quite fathom and sighs against his shoulder. She doesn´t say anything but they know that there is much to talk about , if Hugh doesn´t faint first. At that she laughs, although it doesn´t cover that there is slight strain in her voice that makes him perk up. They know each other far to long as even trying to lie to each other. He worries, even if that doesn´t show in his face. Worries about the family and the children, even if they are big now, understanding, raised to be non judgmental and open minded. He worries because he knows that most of the world isn´t, even if it got better over the years. He also worries about what Claire might do, because she hadn´t seen, hadn´t known at first. Not that she hadn´t caught on and called. At that he gave a snort – Americans. Always drama, always grand gestures and in the end it didn´t change a thing. He gives a hiss once his cigarette burns down to his fingers and he curses until she laughs and hands him the drink.   
The timing is good, really – because just after he has raised it to his lips she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks at him with hesitation. It doesn´t suit her, but he knows what she is about to ask before the words have even left her mouth. 

“No. Not yet. Not while we were married.”

He says around a mouth full of amber liquid that burns on his tongue and down his throat, settling in his stomach.

“But you want to.”

It isn´t even a question, just a fact that is stated and shared between friends. That they always were – friends and that they had become lovers, well that had been a simple twist of faith, as Dylan used to sing. Now , a few years down the line he wasn´t sure if they were this or that or neither but they loved each other. The ringing of the doorbell has him nearly jumping out of his skin and her laughing before slinking away with a light laugh and even lighter steps that betray nothing of the weight all the actions of the last three weeks had caused them. Two weeks , six days and fourteen hours ago he had been shocked – well not only shocked but also a little turned on if he were completely honest. 

Two weeks , six days and fourteen hours ago quiet and reserved Hugh Dancy had leaned over the dining table in his own house and pressed a kiss to his lips, after having too much to drink and declaring that he still remembered their shared passion from years ago with a breathy and slightly slurry voice, to which Claire, his lovely and slightly frightfully (if you didn´t know her, that is) wife had let the salad bowl drop to the tiled floor and stood in the kitchen like a deer caught in headlights. Hugh hadn´t moved a muscle and he had said nothing, afraid he might cause the strained atmosphere to topple over into something aggressive or at least poisonous. Instead of saying anything he had helped her clean up the mess and given her his best smile while she just had stared at him and Hugh had opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water – something that still made him laugh in quiet moments and he had felt even in the moment but he did have a brain , even if his brother sometimes assured him that it wasn´t the case. The call to Hanne had come about five days later but apparently Claire had decided to not tell Hugh those news until now. He wondered how much of restraint the woman had and then remembered her upbringing and the way she handled things from the little time he had known her. They would never be close friends but he considered them friends at least- who knew how much of that friendship would last the rest of the week and it only was Monday. Gods, he hated Mondays with a vengance. 

The quiet voices in the part of the house he is not yet in wakes him up and makes him move his feet. He has words prepared, something light maybe , something that doesn´t sound too corny or like a joke. There are real feelings there, he knows that, doesn´t deny it but to face them. Yeah, in short, he is fucked – even if the Fucking, as his brother had drily remarked had been done already, so what was the point? Sometimes he wondered how it was possible that they were related. His eyes drift to Hugh and all of the words he wants to say fall away as Hanne quietly informs them that she would go shopping, tone still light. Yeah, that is why he loves her, but he also loves the man looking at him like a lost child and pale as a sheet, eyes wide and mouth a thin line. 

“Hi.”

Hugh says and rubs his eyes. Mads only sighs and gets out a new glass of Whiskey. 

“So, want to talk about the weather?”

He can´t help asking and Hugh feels like crying but laughs instead. 

“Yeah, I feel a storm coming up.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot that needs to be talked through, apparently and that doesn´t work without drinks.

He can feel it, the alcohol buzzing in his head, without doubt the morning that will follow it will be unpleasant. Not that he cares much anymore, looking down at his shaking hands, trying to not give in to the ironic voice in his mind that sounds so much like Claire reminding him that it was alcohol that had started this whole thing in the first place. It was a voice he told to shut the hell up before staring at the tablecloth in front of him. It had a nice pattern, he thought fuzzily and giggled.   
Mads meanwhile just looks at him without so much as blinking and again he is left to wonder how everyone else can be so calm when he is a mess. 

Maybe that was his problem, had always been something nobody understood – that he thought things through to the point his head ached and nothing came of it in the end anyways. He gives a little startled yelp when a hand grasps his own and he again is met with that clear gaze - a gaze unlike his own that had been skittish at best since the whole mess had started – not to mention filming in the same room until Bryan had sighed and asked what the hell was wrong.   
Me – Hugh had wanted to say but he had kept his mouth shut, told him something about a Migraine and his son being a little difficult.   
He had to hand it to the man that all he had done had been nodding and said nothing else. Goodness he hoped that his son would find it in his heart to forgive him. The sudden laughing from the other side of the table startles him to the bone and an very embarrassing moment later he realizes that the things he had thought apparently have left his mouth and Mads is the person laughing at him. 

“I am so sorry.”

He mumbles, eyes crossing under his lids but Mads is without mercy and if he looks closely enough he can see that there is something beneath the calmness the other actor usually portrays. There is something else, something he can actually smell because Mads is smoking the sixth cigarette in as many minutes – or maybe more, he had stopped counting after the fourth or so. 

“And what is it that are you sorry for, other than yourself I mean.”

Ouch, that had hurt but it was true. He gave a heartfelt sigh and decided for the truth, grizzly as it might be. 

“For waiting.”

Mads had expected a lot of things as he had seen Hugh for the first time after their own personal Watergate but not that. He too remembered him fondly and had been sad to see him go back in the day but he was a discreet man, someone who knew better than to waste his affections on someone clearly at war with himself. 

“So it isn´t the weather you came to discuss after all.”

The Danish man says and sips his third Whiskey, cursing the man in front of him for getting him back to chain smoking and stoking his desires when he thought that he had found everything he ever wanted. Not that it was a lie he lived, it was simply not all he wanted – he wanted something more but he also was a man that voiced his desires, didn´t hide to kiss some boy in the back of an alley just to get it out of his system. 

“Why did you pick up the Salad?”

At that he blinks and wonders how drunk Hugh is and if Hanne will come back within the next hour or if she will stay out and shop. A smile grazes his features, no – she had never been a good liar, never had needed to be. Hell, he had loved that about her once upon a time but now it unnerved him a bit because he wanted the whole truth even if it was hurtful. Lars on the other hand was so truthful he still managed to make him blush. Another thought crosses his mind , dangerous and well hidden but it is for another day and not now when they are sitting in his kitchen and getting plastered which brings him back to the present. 

“I like my kitchen clean.”

He hears himself saying and Hugh laughs until he is actually crying, head thumping on the surface of the table in front of him – he hates it – hates it all and hates himself the most is what Mads can understand between the mumbles and hiccups and of its own accord he feels his legs shift forward, body moving until he stands on his own feet, mind cleared of everything else – no children that he raised, no lovely understanding wife – nothing at all but the smell of Whiskey and the feeling of trembling bone beneath his fingertips. He feels like he is burning, walking on a road that he will never be able to turn back from and yet he doesn´t feel it in his heart to care. 

“Doesn´t answer a fucking thing, does it now?”

Hugh looks at him, eyes a startling color he cannot quite describe but he doesn´t think straight anyways when the other man shakes his head , sending curls bouncing and by god , he is only a man of flesh and blood, so it is him who pulls the Brit close until they are flush against each other, lips smashing together until their teeth rattle. There is a thing about passion and longing – it is honest, brutal – raw, something wild and tender at the same time. Honesty that cannot be hidden with words however pretty and well rehearsed they are. 

“We should stop.”

Hugh mutters against his lips, trying his best to focus on anything other than the desire pooling low in his belly, trying to rise up or the mouth tasting bittersweet of smoke and the tang of Whiskey. Mads does, pulls back but not because he wants to, no – because he needs to. The solution isn´t Sex right now, they are not in a porn where everything is without logic or where there just magically a bed appears. Shaking his head he tries to clear it, eases those long fingers off his shoulders and sighs. 

“You want that? I am your friend, you know – despite all this. “

And why does he sound like Hannibal all of a sudden, wanting to at another name to the sentence until he realizes that they are not on set, that they aren´t playing a role, that there isn´t another take to this.   
He mutters to himself , the urge to smash something rising in his body. That had always been his problem, that he could switch gears and go from very understanding to mad as hell – right now he feels a maddening cross between the two of them and isn´t pleased at all. 

“See, that is what I am sorry for. I don´t want you to be my friend. Not only.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth is slurred but true and he hasn´t moved away all that far. Oh they were in so deep. Hanne on the other end, has only lied a bit to Mads – although she was fairly sure he knew that, had known since the start because she always had been a terrible liar – for instance as he had asked her once , back in their fleeting youth, if she liked the earrings he had bought her - really, it had been the worst gift anyone had ever given her but yet she had been polite and had told him that she would love it and she had done that because she loved him. She still did but she understood. 

Clearing her throat, she places her shopping bags in the trunk of her car and wonders where all of this will lead in the end. She doesn´t worry much about Mads and she doesn´t worry about that his feelings for Hugh are real as well as they are towards her. Compromises, yes – lies – no. If he had lied to her, she would have packed her bags and Children and moved back to the place she came from, but he hadn´t. Quite a pair they were – She a terrible liar, him a man to honest for his own good. She still cringes at some Interviews he gives but that has lessened over time.   
Taking a deep breath she knocks on the door of the house she knows is momentarily only occupied by Claire and her son. 

For them, she worries, because she has the feeling that Claire didn´t take it well – for all the world thought of her being an Ice Queen, she wasn´t. She was a woman with fears but knew how to hide them quite well, almost like herself. Claire stares at her for a long, silent moment before inviting her in. 

“You take it very well.”

Claire also isn´t the kind of woman to not cut to the case and Hanne is glad for it, grinning despite not feeling all that happy. She had in that same position herself once and yes, she understands the worries Claire might have as she moves around the house, neat and collected, everything clean. They differ in that point, she likes her chaos a bit, has always been a bit messy but then again this isn´t why she sets down the things she has bought at the market and sets about making lunch while talking with the other woman.

“What would you expect me to do? Start to cry and rip my hair out? I think I am past that stage in my life, Claire – so are you.”

It has more bite than she intends but her next words are milder, more kind as is the look in her eyes. 

“I know it is hard.”

Claire just gives a laugh at that and shakes her head. It had been a kiss, a simple kiss but the words had been more than she had been able to bear, couldn´t quite register them even now. 

“You don´t know a thing about how I feel. It isn´t ..isn´t because he kissed..for fuck´s sake, I don´t even care that they screw right now.”

That is more interesting than the vegetables she cuts and finally her gaze lands on Claire who looks like death warmed over. Not that she can blame the American. 

“So what is the problem ,when there is no problem?”

Claire gives a long suffering sigh, as if there is something weighing her down, something pulling her under with it´s weight.

“How can we raise a child together if he isn´t even honest with himself?”

For that, Hanne has no answers and so she turns back to the cutting board, hoping that it all comes together somehow. Wishful thinking, that had always been her weak point, not that it had caused her trouble but it had taken its toll on her never the less as had the realization that she had to share the man she loved not only with the world but also with somebody else. He had never talked about it much , had never said who it was, but when she had met Hugh she had known at once. Mads hadn´t lied and she had accepted it – not the end of the world, just another angle that took time to come to terms with.

“How do the two of you make that work?”

Mads pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense of the man currently spread out in his living room, the glass of Whiskey clutched to his chest in a white knuckled grip. 

“We talk. I find the invention of Speech has made it remarkably easy to converse.”

Laughter bubbles forth in Hugh and Mads shifts a little closer, trying his best to think with his head and not with his heart or other , much more needier things of his body. 

“Oh shut up.”  
“Says the man who wanted to talk about the weather.”

Hugh rolls his eyes, head lolling on the back of the sofa, eyes unfocused.

“Nah. I wanted to talk about you – and me – and you know..stuff.”

Mads doesn´t even get to ask what stuff means before Hugh has slipped into sleep, barely able to catch the glass slipping from limp fingers. Not that he himself is sober but Hugh is a little more of a lightweight than him, so he sighs and tries to focus on getting the man that is heavier than he looks up from the place he all but passed out and off to somewhere else, somewhere where the danger of him waking up and breaking his neck is not an option, which in turns means that he carries him off to the bed after calling Hanne who almost cheerily informs him that Claire and her came to the solution that all men were pigs and she would stay the night over there. He laughs then, promising her that everything will turn out fine, that they would figure it out. 

He briefly wonders if she can tell that he is lying while pulling out a blanket and pillows from the hall closet, ready to settle in for the night on the sofa. He hopes not, hopes that once he has slept a few hours he would know what the hell was happening between them all.


	3. Chapter 3

For a blissful moment Hugh forgets the world around him and doesn´t even question why he is sleeping in a bed that isn´t his own or why Claire isn´t next to him until he remembers quite clearly. It feels like he is doused in ice and he feels the sudden need to cry and vomit – even if he doesn´t know in which order and what the hell his problem is. So he fell in love with someone else – big deal. The voice in his head sounds like a teenager and with a groan he reaches for the pillow next to his head and presses it over his mouth to muffle his frustrated shout into its softness, throwing it away as if burned once he realizes that it smells of Mads. 

Mads who stands in the doorway with crossed arms and a thin smile on his lips, looking for all the world like someone who has slept through the night and that is unfair on so many levels that he doesn´t even find words for it at the moment and just turns into the comfort of the covers, trying to hide. He knows it is childish and won´t help anything but on days like that he wishes to be five again and for his mother who fed him soup and told him everything would be fine.   
Nothing would ever be fine, nothing would be going back to normal unless someone invented time machines and even him who had a fairly bright fantasy couldn´t quite imagine that. 

“Good Morning.”

The voice that drifts to him isn´t really loud but his head pounds none the less and he gives out a groan with herculean effort, a little proud off himself before he slips out of bed and barefoot onto the cold floor.

“Has the world ended yet?”

He means it to come out as a joke but it doesn´t. It comes out like his greatest wish because he feels like a failure to the people he has had in his life and can´t muster the strength to face the facts in the harsh light of day. He gives a little snort of disgust at that but waves off and wonders why Mads winces.

“You slept on the Couch.”

Guilt is the last thing he needs but it eats away at him like an animal feasting off an delicious bone refusing to let go. 

“No. The world hasn´t ended yet.”

Is all Mads says because that he hasn´t slept in the bed should be oblivious not only from his stiff posture but also from the bedding thrown there. 

“On the bright side there is coffee.”

Hugh just sighs and Mads raises his eyebrows. 

“I do understand what you are going through.”

Oh no – there was a conversation on the horizon he wasn´t prepared for, had never rehearsed. His trembling fingers searched for purchase on something, anything really but in the end he was grabbing the other mans shirt, hearing fabric tear between his clutches and panic in his eyes. Mads to his credit, does widen his eyes a little but doesn´t step back, doesn´t throw him off and out, tell him everything was a joke, that he should go crawling back to his wife and son. The fact that he doesn´t say anything at all disturbs and pleases him in equal measure. 

“Then by god, tell me – because I don´t know.”

He knows in that moment that Mads is offering him a way out.

“You are confused.”

Sometimes he hated to be an actor and that he was able to read people, that it was part of his job to know things like that, to feel them even before they were let out in the world. Yes, he was confused but not in the way it was implied and he could see, behind the calm and collected mask the other man wore a myriad of emotions wanting to break free.   
“You just didn´t know what you said. What you did, isn´t that so? Isn´t that what you wanted to say to me?”

It is painful, like the hot oil he had poured over his hands once at a Barbeque without knowing how to pull it off. He had felt the sting for days but this – this was something different, something that would sting not only for days or weeks, not even years – no it would sting until he took his last breath. Maybe that was a tad dramatic but it was just the way he felt and suddenly he also felt hot white anger bubble in his chest, rise like bile in his throat and the grip he had on the other mans shirt grew stronger before he flipped them , all but manhandled them until Mads was sitting on the Sofa, one eyebrow raised and Hugh was almost sitting in his lap and on top of that a trembling mess. 

“Don´t put words in my mouth. Don´t you dare.”

That in turn makes Mads growl and push him off his lap with such force that he nearly bangs his head on the coffee table in the middle of the living room and in his fuzzy brain he doesn´t even know how they ended up their and he also doesn´t want to know how they look at the moment, grateful that there isn´t a camera near them at the moment, which also brings back the more prominent problem at hand. As long as the thing – whatever it is – between them isn´t solved, how will it be able for them to work together, to keep the chemistry flowing. 

“Then get your shit together. I don´t know what the big deal is.”

He doesn´t even get his protest near his lips when a pair of stormy eyes glares down at him. 

“Don´t you even try to make this about the kids – I know that can be hard, I have been there and done that -just answer me this then, if nothing else. Do you still love her? Are you looking for a rebound, because I am not that.”

Hugh feels his mouth snap shut at the harsh words and he sits on a carpet in a strange house in nothing but his underwear. Yeah, he wants to cry. Instead of doing so, he stands on shaky legs and moves to the kitchen where Mads is smoking again, trying his best to hide his own nerves in a cloud of cigarette smoke. 

“I am sorry. I ..the thing that confuses me is that I am not confused and that it terrifies me to no end. That I don´t look at her the way I used to and that I am angry that we both saw it coming but that nobody of us said anything.”

He gets it out in a rush, sits down across the other man and feels every bone in his body, grasping the mug of coffee he is offered with both hands like a life line, the only thing that makes him realize how cold he feels and that it isn´t to blame on the weather. 

“So?”

Mads apparently has used up all of his social skills and Hugh can´t blame him for it. Not One bit. 

“I´ll go back over to her, talk to her and..tell her. Something. I ..”

He is stopped by a hand on his own and the mere touch ignites something in him that makes him practically shoot out off the chair, back to the bedroom where he manages to get dressed in record time, mumbling hasty apologies before breezing past Mads, placing a wet kiss on his cheek without even noticing. On his way out he nearly collides with Hanne who decided to come back earlier because Claire had wanted to be left alone- catching up on sleep, Claire had said and they had known it had been a lie. She hadn´t slept an hour or a minute. She had sat awake, first on the sofa, then together with Hanne and later alone in the bedroom after tucking her son in. Her head doesn´t even turn before she starts to speak.

“I don´t blame him, you know. I don´t even blame you. I just don´t get it, you know.”

She takes a deep and desperately needed breath. 

“I just don´t know what happened between us.”

He chuckles without humor before going to check on their son who still doesn´t have a clue and he hopes that it will stay that way for a little longer without much hope. 

“Life.”

He whispers finally but she hears it none the less. 

“Life has happened to us.”

And she knows what that means even if she wants to deny it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely feedback so far. Enjoy♡♡

Hugh wonders for a moment if the world would yet decide to stop turning but it doesn't - and tlittle voice in his head tells him why on earth he should be that lucky and why he still hasn't talked to Claire. Really talked, like normal grown up people did when they had problems. People that somehow made it work-even in their line of work. Still,he hadn't come around to it even a week later, always finding new tasks to distract him. He knew it was kind of cowardly but he just couldn't bring himself to care anymore.  
So when he walks into their bedroom and sees her packing bags, he feels panic rise in his chest until she looks at him with that familiar scowl on her face that always appears when she is pissed at him that he forgot something. He had forgotten her mothers birthday once and boy had he gotten an earful of that in the end. It had lasted a week or two, that thing between them when neither spoke to the other and just looked at the other person.  
"Tell me you haven't forgotten."  
She says with a long suffering sigh and zips her bag closed, crossing her arms across her chest while he tries to think of what he has forgotten.   
"I am going to Berlin. You do know that I have a job, right?"  
She sounds more cutting than she wants to but she also is getting by on her last nerve and he is partly the reason for that. A huge part for that matter.  
"Oh."  
He says a bit flabbergasted and feels like a right idiot for it.  
"Yeah, oh. You also have seem to forgotten that we wanted to go there as a family."  
God that stings more than it should but maybe it is the thing he deserves for it.  
"I don't.."  
She looks at him long and hard trying her best not to scream at him. And she wants to do it so badly it almost hurts but only almost and that in itself is the problem.  
"It's alright."  
He blinks at her for a moment and ponders what is going on.  
"Hanne offered to go with me. With us, you do know thst our son will also come to Berlin with us."  
Their is anger coiling low in his abdomen like acid, rising up in his throat until words spill out of his mouth but she fires right back and they shout at each other , voices rising.  
"Mommy, why are you and Daddy fighting?"  
Hugh feels like dowsed in icy water and tries to get his nerves under control, tries to get calm enough to act calm and collected.  
"We aren't fighting Sweetie."  
He says in his most soothing voice but fail quite to keep the tremor out of his voice. It is one thing to act in front of an audience and a whole different thing to act in front of your child. He hates himself a little for it but there is no way he can tell the boy the truth , he hardly can admit it to himself.  
"So you are not going to live with another family?"  
God, those sad eyes. He knows that there will be consequences sooner or later but there always are when you fell out of love with someone he guesses and stops in the midst of his thoughts, trying to find it in himself to smile. He manages barely, crouching down and ruffling the boys hair.  
"No, mommy and you are going on a holiday with Hanne. I stay here with Mads, you know like a boy and girl holiday and..oh never mind."  
He really sucks at those things but his boy smiles at him brightly and nods. Such a brave little soldier he thinks, swallowing.  
"Well then. I guess we see each other in two weeks."  
They hug and he prays that Mads is home and that everything between the other couple is okay but his worries are blown out the window when instead of Mads Hanne calls him. She is , other than himself and Claire bubbly and excited, hoping that everything will be alright. Two weeks, she says, is a lot of time to think it all over and if he weren't an actor he wouldn't be able to detect the tremor in her voice. He watches them leave, says his goodbye and when evening falls he has worked himself up again so much that he goes in search of the Whiskey, nearly falling off the chair when the doorbell rings.   
Mads finds him like that, clearly panicked by his strangled shout and the clatter of the chair he used to climb on in search of something stronger than tap water. He must have broken through the door, holding his shoulder and glaring at him.  
"Okay. I don't know if I should be pissed that you wallow in self pity or if I should be glad that you didn't accidentally kill yourself. What the fuck were you trying to do?Wait, don't answer that."  
Mads doesn't even give him the chance to open his mouth before hauling him to his feet with a hiss.  
"I am sorry, I didn't want to make you..are you hurt?"  
Mads wants to say a lot of things to that question, that yes he is hurt by seeing his friend like that, that yes he is hurt by the way he behaves so alien around him that they hardly can work together anymore. He wants to know what happened, wants to understand why this all is so complicated and how they will be able to make it right again. In his rational mind he knows that it won't be okay , go back to where it was ever again and it makes him wonder if they should really drink ever again. In stony silence he calls a carpenter that will fix the door the next morning. He lies of course, says that some animal crashed into the wood because he won't pay for that on top of all the bullshit he has suffered through in the last hours. Hanne and him had talked a lot about it and a tiny part of him was glad that she had decided to follow Claire to Berlin because, really, he needs a fucking break. He is desperate for a change and so he is glad when some of the cast members want to go clubbing. Maybe that will also cure his throbbing shoulder , too. Without further ado he throws Hugh the keys and jacket.  
"You know what?"  
Hugh just looks at him, shaking his head and looking for all the world like a boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Mads had originally come over to check on the other man after he had heard the conversation between the two of them.  
"What."  
He tugs him out of the house, pours him into a cab and they ride into town to join the others -well at least Mads want that at first but then he looks at Hugh again and they end up in a crowded bar with a name he had never heard of before. He decides that a bottle of vodka is the weapon of choice for the night and he also knows it might be a mistake of drinking yet again together but he can't stand the sad look anymore, because he wants Hugh to be happy. He promises him that everything will be alright, that they will work it out and when he finally demands an answer to that , well who could blame him that he leans forward closely and instead of speaking kisses the curly haired man . The audible gasp is swallowed by their kiss but he doesn't let up, doesn't let go.  
"Please ."  
Hugh presses forward after a minute or two which also could be hours later for all that Mads knows.  
"Let's go ..somewhere else."  
There is a flush on his face and his hands shake when he pulls the older man close again but he isn't drunk, isn't out of his mind and Mads is flesh and blood after all, they are grown up and they should know what to do.  
"Okay."  
He says and doesn't even dare to think were this might lead.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah -porn! :D Hope you enjoy <3

There is a moment that stretches out and is full of worries and what kind of idiotic beings they are but then there is nothing – really nothing in either of their minds but a hazy cloud of lust and want. Yes, it might be wrong, yes there will be people that will get hurt but then they are only human and it is something that makes Hugh look up at Mads with foggy glasses and a mouth that is hanging open while little pants leave his mouth. His heart is pounding against his chest again, like in the early days they met , just the hope of something more, something forbidden that is much to sweet to let it go entirely. 

He wonders if Mads feels as dirty as him because they are at some nameless hotel and not drunk off their asses . There is a line that is about to be crossed and it is Mads who pushes him back against the nearest wall and doesn´t say a word as he finally closes in enough that their lips brush in something close to ..well – what is is anyway. Heat flares and explodes between them and Hugh closes his eyes, fumbles with his glasses until they are gently shoved off and placed on a side table he manages to bump in and moan in discomfort.

“Easy now.”

Mads says in that calm way of his, so sure in all things and if Hugh wouldn´t know better he might think that he is a fucking virgin to be deflowered by a prince. The thought alone makes him giggle and choke on his own spit before he can help it and Mads just cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Well, that is a first for me.”

He says drily and Hugh is sure that his face is the color of an overripe tomato but he can´t help it for suddenly he has the images of himself in a frilly dress out of a Disney Movie imprinted in his mind which he tells Mads. He expects many things but not the deadly grip around his wrists that is bordering on painful, sure enough able to leave a set of bruises. 

“Mads?”

He asks, face ashen and eyes huge as saucers, a thing Mads hates and so he lets got of his hands for a moment, raking a hand through his mussed hair. 

“This may be news to you but there are things I do not joke about, ever.”

It is in that moment that he knows that he has gone a step to far, a step that might cost him a friendship and his marriage and he hates that he values the friendship a tiny bit more.

“Do I look like I am joking to you?”

What the hell was happening between them? He didn´t know, but the atmosphere was charged, sparks flying. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to end and he also felt his face grow even hotter and soon enough his hands found their way towards the other mans chest, pushing and grabbing, all at the same time. Clumsy and desperate movements that left no question that he wanted this, that he wasn´t joking in the slightest. The ripping of his own shirt makes his eyes widen and a breath he hadn´t known he was holding rush out into the humid room. No, neither of them was joking, neither of them could joke right now. The state of mind they were both in was something else entirely. 

He would like to look closer, to get to know every inch of skin and map it with his eyes but he doesn´t, cannot focus when there is mouth latching to his neck and a pair of arms is hoisting him up until his back hits the nearest wall. Definitely bruises, he thinks dizzily and shoves at Mads again , who annoyingly is as solid as a rock under his hands and doesn´t move a muscle or takes a step back. 

“And here I thought I would be Prince Charming to you.”

 _Bastard_ Hugh thinks, fondly and aroused, erection pressing into the zipper of his jeans and he must have said it out loud because soon enough he is flipped and moved around until he is landing on a bed he would never sleep in the light of day but then again he isn´t, thinking with his brain right now but with the want between his legs and the hand on him makes his spine arch. There is nothing graceful about, no romance and flowers but who does want it anyway when there is need.   
Need is such a frilly thing that makes you run to the bathroom and curse that there is only conditioner that has to pose for lube and there is the lack of condoms until the man underneath you blushes again and says something about back pocket. 

Mads wants to make jokes to lighten the mood but the time for that has passed and they look at each other. There is something sitting heavily on his tongue but he lets it be swallowed by the graceless kiss they share and he also swallows the little pained gasp when he presses in with one finger. His eyes are black in the dimly lit room and he finds it hard to breath but his blood is pounding in his head none the less and he can´t stop now, won´t stop now. They want it both, there in the darkness where there is no place for dark or guilty thoughts, where they are just sliding against each other smelling of sweat and booze and so much want that is swirling all around them like a fine sheen of dust. 

Somewhere, outside their little bubble a cellphone screen lights up but goes dark again and Mads presses a kiss on the ear nearest to his lips, feels the urge to move more than now two fingers that have the younger man trembling and closing his eyes shut in anticipation. He licks the moisture leaking from those expressive eyes away with his tongue and for a moment wonders if Hannibal is finally rubbing off on him before he speaks in low and rushed tones.

“Can I?”

He repeats it over and over again, lets his finger brush over something inside Hugh that makes him shout and nod and he would kill for some light right now, but he also knows that the darkness is something they both need, maybe Hugh more then him. It isn´t the time to think yet, isn´t time to let the world in again and so he reaches for the condom, nearly tears it in his haste and groans when he finally manages to get it over his aching flesh. It feels like doing it the first time all over again, even if it isn´t and when he finally, finally, pushes in he feels like he is suspended in midair, strung high and floating. There is a hand in his hair, rough and calloused, gripping, demanding and it is all he wants right then, maybe all he wanted for a longer period of time he likes to admit. 

Their movements are out of sync but neither cares, neither notices for that matter and it is over sooner than he would like, coiling low in his belly and fueled by long legs draping around his waist, a mouth clashing with his own and the splash of something against his overheated skin. It pulls him under, nearly makes him drown but he comes with a shout none the less, collapses and tries to breathe. Yeah, they need to breathe, that is all. Nothing more, nothing less – and tomorrow will be tomorrow, not now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions are ahead

Bright light flickers through flimsy, worn curtains that do nothing to hide the sun, illuminating everything in the room. Mads is wide awake, feet planted on the floor, head in his hands. He doesn´t regret it, doesn´t even think of feeling guilty about a thing they both wanted, still want from the feelings of it. It is what the cascade of thoughts brings with it – a fucking headache , that is and so he curses to himself and goes in search for water, grimacing and drinking from the sink.   
Hugh is still out cold and he lets his eyes wander, linger _feast_. There is a grin on his features that can only be described as feral but since he cannot see himself right now, he doesn´t know. 

It makes him snort when Hugh turns around and actually manages to grab the pillow and hide under it. 

“Hate to break it to you, the world didn´t end and you were not dreaming either.”

In moments like that, he wishes for tact he lacks, for being more like someone he isn´t. If he could, he would whack himself over the head but he isn´t that flexible. 

“Oh god.”

Hugh moans and he has to bite back the remark that god hasn´t the slightest to do with anything they did in the previous night. Instead he sits on the edge of the bed again, tries not to pop something in his neck while he stares at the other man, images from the previous night flashing behind his closed eyes when he tries to think. It isn´t the day to think, he ponders and just flops down, head connecting with that of the other man. Maybe it is Monday, the little voice in his head which sounds so much like his accursed brother titters gleefully. It isn´t. It is Sunday and they are still in a crappy cheap hotel which he didn´t even bother to remember the name of. 

“Ugh, my head. What is your skull made of, brick?”

The younger man hisses and Mads narrows his eyes at him. 

“I am not answering that before I am through my first cup of coffee, Sweetheart.”

For a moment they both freeze and really there is much they need to talk about but again they are interrupted by the shrill ringing of a phone. It isn´t Hugh´s and Mads answers it on the second ring, still not moving an inch – why should he, it is too late for grace anyway. He hisses when gentle fingers prod his skull and Hugh mutters that he thinks there might be a lump forming. Silence comes over from the other end of the line, half a world away. It must be night there, not that Hanne is interested in that right now. 

“For the love of god, tell me , you didn´t fight!”

However calm she might be when they are around each other, she can be very shrill if they are more than a room apart. There is mumbling in the background and he realizes it must be Claire, clearly panicking and thinking god knows what.

“No, no we didn´t.”

It´s the things he leaves out that make her clutch the phone a little bit tighter on her side of the line, mouth set into a thin unhappy line. She had known it would happen, had encouraged it but it still hurts to a degree. 

“Good to know. Listen, Claire was a tad worried because the boy has got a fever and..uh..well Hugh didn´t answer his phone. Care to tell him? He is with you, isn´t he?”

For a moment he feels the childish need to deny that, doesn´t even know the reason behind it why he wants to tell her that he is alone in his bed, trying to catch up on some sleep when that is the very last thing on his mind. He doesn´t say it, too, just hands the phone over to the other man who speaks with his wife. It is an instinct honed by years upon years of acting to observe the reactions of the person you look at. The person, who you not only look at but also the person you want to be more than a friend, want to be more than a nameless face in an unmade bed. Someone that complicates your life and you curse them for it but on the other end you still love them. He stopped that particular train of thought because there really wasn´t a doubt about that, even if the words were still unspoken, hovering in the air between them like smoke from a fired gun – and isn´t his imagination running away from him at break neck speed far too early in the morning? He doesn´t want to answer that, either and focuses on his trained through acting skill of observing people. 

Saying that Hugh would look haunted, that wouldn´t fit, saying that he looked broken, yes that fit. He looks like a man that has lost everything and nothing left to loose, which in turn means that there also isn´t a possibility for said man to gain anything ever again. His posture is a dead giveaway for that with shoulders slumped and a hand cradling the sheet he covered himself with in a white knuckled grip, lips a thin white line and the eyes – there is a mix in there which is partly anger, partly worry and the biggest part is resignation. Like he has given up. His face changes, though, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes and happiness replacing all the other emotions from moments ago. 

“Hey Munchkin.”

He says in a tone he not really feels judging by the set of his jaw but he makes it work, that is his profession after all. He asks his son if he is feeling better and tells him to be a brave little knight, that he will have a surprise for him once he comes back with his mother. The conversation ends soon after and he hands the phone back to its owner, fingers to his credit only shaking slightly. Hanne clears her throat, no doubt raking a hand through her hair.

“We´ve known each other for a long time, haven´t we?.”

Mads feels his blood run cold at that sentence, gripping the tiny electronic device firmer than he should. 

“Yes.”

He says flatly, wishing to be in another time and another place, maybe being someone younger who could brush off that kind of tone as mood swing. It isn´t, he knows that much. It is the tone of someone who has been at war with themselves, has battled with some force and now finally, after everything that has happened come to a conclusion.

“So, I really think if you want something else, we should talk. All of us. And I mean really talk, not shout at each other and throw dishes or something like that.”

He can hear the smile in her voice, can see it behind closed lids and grins despite himself. 

“I don´t want a repeat performance of that – ever again.”

Hugh has moved so close now that he is able to hear everything that is said clear as day and his eyes are wide, all seeing and so troubled that Mads doesn´t know what to do – laugh or smack him on the back of his head. 

“I promise there won´t be -we are all adults after all, aren´t we?”

He tries for humour and Hanne laughs at him, fondly. 

“Arschloch.”

She says asshole still so full of love that it makes something inside him throb painful before he can stop it and replies. 

“Danke. Ich lieb dich auch wie am ersten Tag. Ehrlich.”

Naturally he tells her he loves her like on the first day, and that he means it but they both know that albeit they have crossed many bridges and rivers, there is no way of ignoring it – the fact that he slowly let someone else into his life, into his heart and his very soul. He would vomit from the sick sweetness of it all but he just can`t wrap his mind around it right now. 

“Now that isn´t fair.”

Hugh mutters beside him and he realizes that they have slipped into German out of habit and Hanne probably because she doesn´t want Claire to understand her. After hanging up, he turns around and smiles. 

“Sorry. Habit.”

He isn´t a morning person, never has been and never will be but he sees the haunted look is back again and he reaches for the other man before dropping his hand again and looking like a right idiot. 

“Yeah. So – Claire pretty much told me that she wants to talk with her lawyer and that I shouldn´t worry because she wouldn´t be the person to make it public.”

Mads is a little surprised once Hugh gives a snort but stays quiet. 

“And what where you talking about, I mean - other than your plans of ruling the world?” 

He could lie. Say that they merely talked about the kids, how much Hanne likes the holiday and how often she has to shout at their rascals because they are just as wild as their father but that isn´t the truth. In Truth she has been thinking. They have known each other so long that the other part knows when something changes. Even if he still loves her, he knows that she can´t really share if it will get serious. Everything has consequences a voice sounding much like his father whispers in the back of his mind before he shakes his head and looks at the younger man.

“That she would let me go.”

Hugh has to sit down at how easy and calm that sounds. 

“Is that what you want?”

He asks instead and Mads rakes a hand through his hair. 

“Question is, is that what you are willing to face?”

And Hugh doesn´t know that yet and apologetically opts for a shower.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely feedback so far :) I am glad you enjoy it <3 Well, we are in for a bumpy ride, so buckle up.

The water is so hot that it feels like his skin is falling off – he knows the sensation, knows that it feels like that because he hurts all over from the night before and if he were a better man, he would not hide under the shower until he looks like a very large crab. His head rests against the tiled wall and he wants to bang it against the surprisingly cold stone but refrains from doing so, because really – there is a line of people that would kill him if he did bash his head in. Not to mention it would be a step back in his career and he doesn´t want that, has worked to hard for it. He sighs and tries to open his eyes which also turns out to be a mistake and suddenly there is soap in his eyes and he screams. 

It feels like someone is clawing his eyes out, until there are hands wiping at his face, steadying him, followed by a voice that is frustratingly calm and annoyed all at once. 

“If you think you can get out of his by killing yourself in the shower, it isn´t going to happen.”

Despite the seemingly harsh words the hands are tender and unhurried, moving over his face until he is able to see again even though it still hurts a bit. When Mads face swims into focus again he tries for a joke but his words die on his tongue because the other man has a look on his face he doesn´t like because he cannot judge it. A mask, he thinks without humor, a shield to protect his thoughts from the world a little longer. He cannot blame him but he shudders none the less, because they are standing in the shower. It is like something out of a cheap porn, except there are a few differences. Firstly, Mads is still fully clothed even if Hugh doesn´t remember him dressing and a small part of his brain mourns that fact. He has to undress again, that same useless part of his brain supplies because he is soaked to the bone. 

“Wasn´t my intention, believe me.”

No matter how much tension there is between them, Mads still manages a little smile. It´s an odd smile, one that could be sad or happy, maybe a mixture of both of those things. He doesn´t know but then again what does he know anymore? Oh yes, his marriage is over and his wife a world or two away with their child and he doesn´t regret it because he is in love with someone else. He can admit it now, to himself at least and maybe he can bring his mouth to move in a while. He needs time but they don´t have that, they are in a line of work that doesn´t allow One to drown in self pity or other mundane things like that. 

“Good to know. Now, I believe we need to talk. After getting out of here.”

Here not only means the shower but also the hotel and Hugh feels so dirty that he pulls his sunglasses so far down his nose that they nearly touch his lips. Mads says nothing to that and still wears the the same expression he had worn back at the hotel and Hugh wants to scream again because he can´t for the life of him figure it out, even when they sit together in some Chinese restaurant, stuffing their faces with dumplings an hour later. They might as well talk about the weather Mads thinks and actually goes for that topic, making Hugh choke on the bite he takes. 

“Really? The weather?”

Mads puts his chopsticks down with more force than necessary and glares at the other man that Hugh shrinks back in his seat opposite him.

“You are not really giving me much to work with for fuck´s sake, because really - what else is there to say. I tried patience, I tried booze and it still doesn´t change a simple fucking thing. Well, yeah there also was fucking involved as I recall and you surely remember _that_ , don´t you?”

A booth over a mother with a girl in pigtails stares at them open mouthed and sputters something while covering the girls ears with her hands. Neither of them cares or notices at that point, because if you are angry the world gets a lot smaller. Hugh is gritting his teeth and the chopsticks he holds between his fingers snap.

“That´s what you call it? Fucking? Really – a simple fuck? Wow, that is a new low, even for you.”

Mads face is red, redder than his own had been in the shower only a few hours ago.

“A new low for me? Excuse me if I am a bit angry because you can´t get your head out of your ass about this whole thing. Don´t you realize that you are not the only person in this? Do you know that you are not the only person in this who gets hurt? Have you even thought about that?.”

By the time he is finished he is shouting, hands on the table and clenched. Everybody has a breaking point Hugh dumbly muses before he stands, huffing and trying to get his raging emotions under control without succeeding much. He doesn´t really know what prompts it, but he pushes Mads who also rose with him back into the booth. 

“Yeah, I get it - I am the worst person in the world because I love you and not the person I fathered a child with! Come one, nail me to a cross already, why don´t you. Its not like it that I am beating myself up about it already!”

People are openly staring at them both now and cellphones are being dragged from pockets and used to take pictures and make videos. Naturally a restaurant isn´t the best place for celebrities to have a fight – two male celebrities at that, who are known to be married to woman but then again even celebrities are humans with feelings, even if some people tend to forget that. 

“I am afraid, we are causing a scene.”

Mads says, deadly calm again before reaching into his pocket and taking out a wad of bills which he throws on the table before taking Hugh by the wrist and dragging him out of the place. It is then that they both notice their surroundings and Hugh, well, he feels faint, feels like the ground under his feet is finally slipping because the truth is finally out. He cannot think, he is hardly able to breathe and that Mads punishes him with stony silence while flagging down a cab is not helping matters at all.

His heart is thudding painfully in his chest and yet again he wonders if it might break into a million pieces when they finally reach his own house. Mads still doesn´t speak but he follows him after paying their fee and he sits down at the kitchen table again. It is a repeat performance, he knows but he doesn´t give a damn anymore and he just knows that there will be hell to pay once their little outing hits the news. He isn´t foolish enough to think it won´t happen, for that he knows the world they move in way too much. With shaking fingers he searches for cigarettes and finds none, curses while he watches Hugh prepare tea.   
It makes him start to laugh, all of a sudden and the other man turns around, eyes stormy and a tad insane. He doesn´t blame him, doesn´t judge him when he closes his eyes.

There is a ton of things that hover in the air between them and they both feel raw, Mads can sense it as well as Hugh, even if neither of them comments on it. The silence stretches between them until the older man cannot stand the silence anymore. 

“I am leaving her.”

He says and it sucks all of the air out of the room leaving absolutely nothing to interpretation. 

“It´s not that I don´t love her, because I do. I just don´t want to lie to her, I respect her too much for that. We never lied to each other.”

And that is truth. They have known each other for so long, a lie would have been a waste of time. Hugh opens and closes his mouth, hands clutching the mug with lukewarm tea between his fingers. Mads gives him that smile again and he is finally able to place the expression. Resignation – He has given up on something, but it isn´t the younger man, that much he can also see. Setting down the cup on the counter he takes a step forward but Mads holds up both hands before standing and creating space between them.

“No. I need to be alone right now.”

For a moment he thinks the younger man might cry because he feels like he might cry too, but he doesn´t and Hugh only nods in understanding. That is a first, he thinks sarcastically and turns on his heel. 

“I am sorry for what I said back there.”

It´s not nearly enough but it has to do for the moment.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And on we go - Just couldn´t resist a few things ;)

When someone would ask either of them what hell is like, well they would be surprised that the answer is similar from both men. Hell, that is the flash of a camera, or the accusing eyes of some make up girl or boy who just stare at you silently but always judging. It was no wonder really that it was bound to blow up in both their faces, even if the way it did – well it was more than unfortunate. That is what Bryan had called it, in that maddeningly calm way of his and Hugh had looked at him and then at Mads before laughing without humor. It was the first time, Mads recollects, that he has seen Bryan angry. It was a sight to behold, though, the way he pinched the bridge of his nose and told them both that while he understood that there would be consequences there also obviously had been actions that prompted them, that there would be jobs on the line and that they should get it the fuck together because the world wasn´t a playground as much as everyone wished for it. 

It left them both speechless but then again the other man had been right because the world hadn´t stopped turning, nobody even blinked so much at them on set and when Mads flops down to the guy playing the Red Dragon in the Make-up chair on a sunny Sunday Morning when they shoot , said guy looks at him with something he can´t quite place until another man comes in. They just exchange a look and quiet words and the rumbling laugh that comes with it makes Mads nearly green with envy. It took him a while to recognize him, but it is the other guy from the Hobbit, the One that played the Elvenking. He is fucking bad with names he notices and gulps around a cup of coffee, watching them part on a kiss and another quiet conversation.

“Who was that, Richard?”

He asks if only not to look like he might murder someone and to strike up an conversation that makes him forget about the finger shaped bruise on his left cheek. His Co-star just blinks at him from his script, a flush covering his face.

“Lee. My husband.”

He says without fanfare before sighing.

“What happened to your face, if you don´t mind me asking.”

Now Mads is the One who is flushing before becoming pale again except the bruise on his face.

“Let´s just say, someone wasn´t happy that she found out in the way she did about Hugh and myself.”

To his credit his co-star says nothing to him, just squeezes his shoulder in something that comes close to sympathy before taking his leave and he is left alone again with the thoughts running through his head like a horde of wild horses. He wonders if he will ever be able to explain the thing between Hugh and himself so simple to others but he knows he still has to figure out what the hell they have, well fuck if he knows. 

He knows however about the lovely purple bruise on his cheek came to be and he things he deserves it at least a bit. All in all it taken about two days for the news to go viral and for their respective agents to scream at them down the phone line and Hugh had looked at him as if he had bitten into a grape but had told his agent that yes, it was true and that yes, he would offer a statement to be released for the press soon. And to Mads surprise, he had been true to his word, which put him – to say it mildly – under pressure. So he had hammered together some meaningless words for the press and posted online. Everyone, it seemed had an opinion about it all and after a while he had just stopped reading, shutting down his laptop and deciding it was time to catch up on some sleep.   
That had been hours before Hugh remembered that this would be the day the women would come back from Berlin and Mads had wondered if there was something he might have done in a previous life and if he would have to pay for all his sins in the matter of days and hours. Hugh was , like him – down to his last nerve and in no condition to drive a car, let alone neither of them wanted to take a cab because there was press everywhere. At least it seemed that way and since he also felt obligated to come with him to pick them up since it had gone to hell already. That being decided they had made their way to the airport in stony silence, not even glancing at each other because the last thing they had needed was more attention and also he didn´t want to crash the car.   
It was one of those days where also were stuck in traffic and he felt Hannibal a bit closer to the surface when Hugh in an attempt to drown out silence -yeah – it made no sense, none at all- fiddled with stereo once to often.

It took nearly double the normal time to drive to airport and it was only due to a well placed call from Claire to the security that they were finally left alone. He hadn´t spoken to his own wife for a couple of days and he knew that they had to talk, now that decision had been made. It was also clear as day to him that she already knew the outcome of the war he had fought with himself. They had known each other far too long not to notice such things but then again there isn´t a point in clinging to things that just don´t work anymore. With dread he also thought about what that all would mean not only to their families but to their careers. 

All those worries he had confided in the only person he could think of being brutally honest with him and that had been his brother. For a terrifying moment he thinks that maybe Lars will hang up on him when he calls , but he doesn´t. 

“Well, brother mine – Shit happens.”

There is no teasing in that tone but annoyance. Annoyance that the call didn´t come sooner and that he himself is close to tears of hysteria when he is done talking, which Lars can hear without doubt. They are brothers after all and rears back a bit.

“Do you remember what I said to you after your broken nose had healed?”

He had needed to think a long moment before he remembered that Lars, unlike their mother had told him it wouldn´t ever grow back the way it was. That somethings couldn´t be changed but that it wouldn´t matter in the end. You had just accept it, no matter if it would be a broken nose or a relationship in tatters. In the end the outcome was much the same. 

“Thank you.”

He had said and meant it until his brother, being the nasty bastard he always had been had asked about details that were strictly concentrated on bedroom matters, which in turn meant he had some bet going with someone, the insufferable creature that he was. He loved him anyways. So caught up in that particular conversation he nearly squeaked when Claire stood in front of him, looking for all the world like nothing was on her mind, calm and collected. Well, he took that as his chance to open his mouth but didn´t even get the chance to utter a word because she slapped him so hard that he felt his teeth rattle. Hanne gasped, Hugh shielded his son from witnessing his mother loosing their temper and he blinked a few times to get rid of the stinging on his cheek.

“Well, I guess I couldn´t expect flowers, now could I. Feel better?”

Him and his damn mouth. In the distance Hugh cannot help but snort, quickly covering it as a cough and failing by the looks of it. Claire just looks at him, nodding. He recalls, before that all started thinking a storm might be ahead but he knows, that they are already in the eye of it. Blinking his memories and thoughts away, he folds his script neatly, takes a deep breath and bumps into Hugh – as if the universe wants to laugh at him some more. 

“Hey.”

The younger man offers, a small smile gracing his lips and Mads tramples down the desire he feels pooling in his belly. It works for two seconds. 

“Hey.”

He tries when he finds his voice.   
“So..I thought we could -uh- maybe – dinner? Talk. Whatever?”

They both laugh in the end and then Hugh moves forward, touches the bruise that is still there and places a kiss to it, which isn´t the best idea – because not only does he mess up the make-up but it leads to a series of kisses until Bryan comes to look for them, a sigh leaving his mouth.

“Guys, really! Work! Work – and keep it at least R, would you. And Hugh, please try to remember that you want to kill him, not kiss him or fuck him on the dining room table. Be a doll, do that for me, would you, I don´t want more gray hairs from this.”

Hugh blushes to the tips of his ears but steps back and the spell between them is broken momentarily although Mads can also see that the younger man knows that this is just the beginning of a storm long anticipated and for the love of god, he hopes they are ready to face it.


	9. Chapter 9

Hanne is always kind. It is an odd thing to notice for him, Hugh thinks while trying not to look at her when she visits Mads on Set but then again he is caked in dry artificial blood that will never wash out of his costume but then again that shouldn´t be his problem. Problems he should consider is the press and everything that will come at them from now on. Inwardly he shudders but on the outside he is calm, or so he tells himself, fiddling with the collar of his shirt again. It gives him something to do, something to distract him – for a moment. The last weeks and months have been hell and back but he feels freed and now ironically he doesn´t know what to make of that freedom, where to go. 

That is the problem with getting the things you wanted desperately. Once you have them you tend to get afraid of losing them, of messing up and he has done so in the past. Claire comes unbidden to mind. Claire who just looks at him and smiles sadly. She isn´t really mad at him anymore or has ever been, she even told him that but it is a hard thing to believe once they are standing together in a room of a house they once shared and packing things – his things – for good. It would have been easier to do that once the storm raging all around them would have had subsided but for Claire it was better this way – ripping the band aid right off her skin. It is too fast, too sudden for a man like him and he wonders if he really is able to withstand the force it all brings with. For now they are in the eye of said storm, in a unrealistic bubble he thinks might burst once they are open and outed for real, not by vultures of the press – if they let it out in the world, but he also knows there is no way for him turning back. There are many reasons for that. Firstly he doesn´t want to and secondly he feels that it would be unfair to the man now sitting across from him, talking to his wife. Soon to be ex – wife. He smiles just as easy as on that first day they had laid eyes on each other, way back in time and it might have been another universe for all he might know. 

Even then he had noticed on some level that there was something between them, a current that was pulling them in and that neither of them had a chance. God, he wants to laugh at himself but he doesn´t and just swallows around the lump in his windpipe. There wasn´t much he had to pack – nothing much he wanted to anyway. He would never say that out loud but there were things this house he rather would have burned than taken with them. Such a fleeting and tiny thought that yet again says everything about the dynamic of things. He nearly jumps out of his skin once a hand lands on his shoulder and gives an unmanly squeak that makes Mads in turn chuckle. Hanne is no longer to be seen and with some guilt he finds relief in that.

“Down in that dark place of yours again?”

There is something dangerous in the older mans voice, something that sounds like anger but yet isn´t, just bordering on the fine line on it. He cannot blame him and he would be the last person on earth who would but still, he just sighs. He cannot help being himself, a different kind of person from the man that moves like a panther towards him. He also is aware that there has been talking between Hanne and Mads , since the other man has told him that. He had asked with a baited breath, locked somewhere in his chest if Hanne had cried. Claire had, bitter and ugly sobs that seemed to come from her very core but then she had smiled at him, shook her head and taken a breath as if it would be the first of her life. 

A new life, maybe. Mads had only looked at him, eyebrows raised. Of course she had cried and he had sat beside her, hands hovering in the air not knowing what to do. He isn´t good at that, showing his feelings in public without being at least a tad ironic or pissed off as hell – which had landed them were they are now. It takes two people to reach that point and now, well – here they are. She had cried, yes. He had also had tears in his eyes but it was not because he was angry, or about the fact that there would be nasty things , headlines that would lie and talk about their lives. No, he had known all that once he had ventured into acting. The bone crushing sadness he felt was that of a honest man who knew that honesty would hurt more than a lie, for a while at least.

“No.Just thinking.”

Hugh says, pulling him from his own darkness and making him chuckle, cuff him on the shoulder.

“Are you allowed to do that? Thinking , I mean?”

He tries to lighten the mood a bit and by the smile Hugh throws him, he knows that he has succeeded. 

“No, probably not since it gives me the shivers. Although that could be..well the costume still sticking to my skin.”

He adds with a grimace, still trying to get his mind back under control and his heart to stop hammering in his chest as if might jump out of his chest at any moment. God, he hates that feeling and how vulnerable it makes him appear to himself if not to others as well. Raising his eyes to Mads he tries for a smile.

“Are you...are you guys good?”

He winces at the question but he has to know at least that and he also is aware that Mads won´t lie to him.

“No, but I guess we will get there. We have always been friends. I am moving out as soon as we are finished filming. Are you and Claire good? I mean, I am bit weary of talking to her but maybe someday that is possible again.”

Hugh cannot help it, he has to laugh.  
“I guess we are not at war, so that is a start, even if the media will do something else with that. Not that I am not armed for that.”

Mads raises his eyebrows again.

“Armed? What are you going to do, threaten to murder everybody working at TMZ with a butter knife?”

Hugh snorts, shakes his head again and when he talks he starts to ramble about how the wrong things come out of his mouth all the time at the most idiotic moments, not that it would surprise him , because - really -he is an idiot after all. At that point Mads stops him, places a finger on his lips and shushes him. The gesture has all kinds of effects on Hugh and he is sure that Mads can feel the slight tremor in his body, going from his head to his toes, leaving him with dark eyes and an open mouth. The finger on his lips is warm, hot even, burning him and it makes his eyes flutter shut once Mads comes closer. Close enough that his breath gusts over his face.

“Yes. My idiot.”

It is said gentle enough but he knows the meaning behind it and almost giggles from excitement. Still, he remembers where they are, that there are people all around him and that they are both still in costume. Not that he can´t be a tease too, he has learned a lot from a lot of people – something he doesn´t mention to anyone because it really is nobodys business but his own. So he simply puts his hands on the other mans shoulders, stroking over fiber and bone underneath a whisper on his lips.

“Sure. And once that idiot is clean, he will show exactly which kind of idiotic things he is able to do.”

Mads blinks for a moment but the last thing he sees of Hugh is his curly head disappearing around the corner with a whistle. He would be mad, really he should be – but he isn´t. So he waits a moment and follows with a feral grin. _The game is on_ he thinks with an inward chuckle.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all :) First of all, thank you so much for the lovels comments and overall feedback. I hope you still enjoy and will follow me on the road where the story leads (I do not know that right now, but that is half the fun, isn´t it? ;) ) Anyhow, as I said - enjoy and until next time <3

The rational mind is a wonderful thing, when it is in fact – rational. Hugh knows that he challenges his inner Will Graham far too often these days and he pretends that he only does that to be prepared for Comic Con. It is only partly true, he knows that even if would rather walk over glass than admit that.  
Right now, his rational mind is taking a vacation somewhere very far away from the rest of him. The rest of him, including his body, is thrumming with excitement, barely concealed. Right now, his mind is blissfully blank, not wandering in the directions of who could see Mads slink back to his trailer, trying to be smooth but failing because he is only human after all and haven´t they already established that?   
He curses under his breath, tries to find focus while cleaning himself up enough to be himself again, shedding the skin of Will Graham and slipping into his own again. Without thinking he looks at his fingers and there it is – a tiny golden wedding band he slips off because, really – he doesn´t want to deal with that right now, and maybe not ever again.   
His head is pounding once again, he thinks but it is only someone on the other side of his door and in his haste to leave the shower he nearly trips over his own feet. 

What was it with him and bathrooms? God only knew. Hastily pulling the ring from his finger and cramming it into his dresser with various other things he opens the door.   
“Just brought myself, if that´s okay.”

Mads says and he smiles. There was also a thing that made the rational mind not so rational if anyone would have asked him. Being in love. Now love was a glorious thing but it also was something that more often than not ended in a wreck for many involved. Not that they hadn´t gotten first hand experience in that regard.   
Mads must have been practicing his mind reading skills – something he wouldn´t, even as laughable it sounded – put past the man standing in front of him. There was much an actor could say with one simple look and the look the older man wore was that of a man that was torn between being angry and upset about thing he wouldn´t be able to change in the near future or at all. 

So Hugh, brilliant man that he is, decides to kiss that look off Mads face. It isn´t the kind of kiss someone plants in desperation but the kiss of man that isn´t able to express his feelings in another way. He has always hated that about himself, over analyzing things and thinking so much that the moment he had worked himself up over has passed without him realizing it. He decides against it, smelling like an unidentified basket of flowers, having grabbed the shower gel Claire used when she was there. Quickly he erases those thoughts, too. 

It is not that he hates her, he just thinks that there is no room for her or Hanne in between them now. Another startling realization which also comes with something that he would describe as jealousy, because he was jealous. That she had been able to move around with Mads without people looking, without people talking. That there had been nothing scandalous about that but when the news about the two of them broke, it was like something else entirely and that again makes him furious, turning his tender kisses into vicious ones that are close to biting. Mads only hisses, arms around him, holding him in place, making sure he is safe, loved, held up and whatever other reason his foggy mind supplies under the lust he feels. God only knew if there was one rational thought left in either of them or if there also wasn´t a place for that in the universe as well right now. 

Mads, for all his bulk is gentle and caring but he is insistent and pushes Hugh until his legs hit the back of the sofa. He feels the scratchy material under his naked skin, an unpleasant reminder that he is naked and the man standing in front of him is not. He changes that quickly and with deft, trembling fingers that could suggest he is a tad drunk but he is stone cold sober, as is Mads who is stopping him in his hurried motions, positioning himself between his legs. 

“No smalltalk?”

He knows that the older man is only teasing but he cannot help the grimace that flickers over his face for a second and because his partner is aware of everything he does, he stops his teasing, running a sure hand into his mop of hair. He wonders for a moment there if the gesture is to hurry or reassure him and comes to the mind boggling conclusion that it is an intoxicating mix of both. No, Mads has never been a man that hides his desires or denies himself the things he wants – life is simply to short for that in his opinion. 

All of a sudden and without warning, Hugh finds himself giggling, a thousand improper jokes running through his head and stopping just behind his teeth. There will be other times when that will be of use, maybe for the B-Roll or the Gagreel, who knew. 

“I am afraid not.”

He says in a voice he congratulates himself for and is startled to hear something metallic hit the floor. A hot flush races over his body, manifesting itself in his cheeks and his eyes are wild when he looks to the innocent belt lying on the floor, right next to discarded pants. He swallows, feeling his heart thudding against his ribcage, fingers ghosting over skin, stopping only when he hears a hiss form somewhere overhead and his eyes dart upwards on instinct. He isn´t really able to see anything but the other man´s throat, his head thrown back with a sound that is yet another combination of two completely different things. The hand in his hair wanders , doesn´t push him forward, doesn´t tighten painfully in his hair. It crawls to his shoulder, settles there like an old friend and reassures him that this is real, that this is what they both want – no _crave_. 

Yes, it is a craving, even if there isn´t the desperation from before in it, as cheesy and old it sounds even in his head. 

“Come closer.”

He cannot even begin to describe where the edge in his voice comes from but deep within he knows that it is because he is so starved. Starved from touching and never getting quite enough, hungry for rough and big hands on his hips, that spread him just a moment later with so much care that he wants to weep but all that comes out of his mouth is broken plea for closeness and then there are kisses again, trailing over his whole body, telling him that everything will be different for now and maybe the rest of time, if only – if only he is willing to jump already, not dangle on the edge of a roof without jumping the last inches. 

His own hands explore skin, scarred in some places, smooth in others and his voice drifts through the trailer, bouncing off the walls and cloaking them in a cloud where nobody but them has the right to enter. He can feel it, the way the other body over his own moves, the slight tremors and the wetness pressing against his own skin. He allows it in and the breach is, like the last time – a bit painful but more than that a relief.   
All of a sudden his rational mind, the fucking bastard – makes an appearance again, like some witch out of a fairytale whispering into his subconscious braincells that the walls of the contraption they are in are thin as paper, that people are passing by and that those people know what they do. These thoughts, however – they vanish with every well placed thrust, with every loving kiss and once he spills hotly between them, coating Mads shirt the other man hadn´t even bothered to remove, everything once again whitens out.

After a minute or ten there is a quiet groan and an partly amused voice telling him that they are too old for this. He says nothing, just hides his blushing face and Mads turns it so they can look at each other. Hugh knows he is looking for something, a sign of regret or remorse, something that would make him in turn regret finalizing his divorce but he doesn´t find it and he smiles. Hugh, for no reason at all other than the sheer giddiness that overcomes some people after Sex can´t help but laugh.

“Do I _want_ to know what is so funny?”

Mads finally asks, flopping down next to him and then he gets it. Two naked men, sitting on a sofa, just like as if their lives would suddenly be some sort of porn sitcom. He chuckles, buries his face at Hughs shoulder.

“You do know if there are stains..”

Hugh just closes his eyes, covering his ears.

“No. No talking. None whatsoever.”

More serious now he grabs blindly for the blanket innocently lying there and covers them both until they are halfway decent and in a fit of nostalgia he quietly tells the other man about blanket forts and the security they provide. Mads says nothing but he takes hold of the smaller hand in his and Hugh allows himself to drift off to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the story continues. Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback and "walking" through that story with me. Until next time <3

“You are certain about it, the backlash I mean?”

It surprises Mads the most that Hanne is the One asking him that and not Claire yelling the same thing at their faces. They are an odd combination, the four of them, sitting together with their children in a Park somewhere in San Diego. Not isolated but far enough off to draw attention. _Backlash_ , he snorts and refrains from making the comment of that sounding like the name of some lame superhero movie. It must be the surroundings they are in, he muses and takes another drag of his cigarette, yelling after his son to leave his sister the fuck alone for once which has some heads turning but it just isn´t like him to keep his opinion to himself and why on earth should he. 

In reality he does it only to have Hugh blush to the roots of his hair and Claire glares at him accusingly.

“Well, uh..”

Hugh stammers, trying to man up in his mind but failing because he thinks again about all the things that could go wrong, what people might say, how they might react and then, for the first time since this whole mess started he thinks about his family and not the wide public. He swallows around the lump in his throat. 

“That is what I thought.”

Hanne says, calm like always while Claire has their son in her sight. Hugh wishes not for the first time to be at that age again where the world was far away, a galaxy away and problems just a myth like dragons. There is also a pang in his chest that comes unexpected and sharp once he realizes that his son will not remain in that frame of mind forever, that he too will worry about the future, how to pay your rent and suffer from heartbreak because time doesn´t just stand still.

“I was trying for a more subtle approach.”

At that Claire snorts unladylike, swatting off a fly and she has half a mind to tell him what subtle means when she spots as the first of them someone making their way over towards their little group. There is something in her body language that makes Hugh turn his head, closely followed by Mads who hasn´t moved an inch in the last hour and regrets that profoundly when something he doesn´t want to lay his finger on creaks in his back. It is only Bryan and he is far too happy in Mads opinion.   
He knows the man by now and he also knows that he is worried. Worried for the show, worried for everything that comes with it , no matter how supportive he is as a human being when he isn´t juggling millions while trying to keep people in their jobs through the next week or month. He knows how hard that is and it shows on the mans face while he nervously rubs his palms together to collect them for the panel that is about to start.

Hugh has gone quiet, already somewhere else in his head and for a moment there Mads envies him for that – for being able to draw back into his own head, something he never was able to do and which in turn has fueled some of the most legendary fights he had with different people throughout his life.   
The panel starts in two hours, they both know that but don´t say anything when exchanging a glance with one another and then Bryan who looks like he might be torn apart at the seams of his clothing. 

“So, guys. I know it might be a bit prude of me, but I uh.. I would like you to keep anything that doesn´t belong to the show to yourself. It would be..”

He stops himself, glances somewhere behind them to see the woman trying to get a hold of three children and winces at all the things that might be written in the future about the two men he has in tow and that he cares far more for than someone he works with. It has always been his mistake, he rationalizes before sighing and raking a hand through his hair, keeping quiet until they reach their destination. There aren´t many people yet and he is glad for that, looking at them both expecting answers of question that are still unanswered. 

“We are professionals.”

Hugh says and Bryan raises one eyebrow but bites his tongue to keep his mouth shut about what he would call professional and what downright insane. There are lights set up, technicians bustling around. It is like a countdown, although they aren´t about to step onto another planet it feels like it for the most time. The comment Hugh utters of it feeling for him like being a rare animal makes Bryan laugh and tell him in his fondest tone that a ticket for the zoo wouldn´t cost that much, so he just shuts his mouth and feels himself blush. Mads doesn´t say anything either, so he prepares for the worst like he always does and has done so for his entire life. Its a habit of his, one that cannot be squashed down, no matter how hard he tries. 

The only thing that pulls him from that tunnel is the phone ever present and ever turned on in case something happens god knows where in his world vibrating innocently against his thundering chest. Now you could argue that there is nothing to fear from something made out of plastic and metal but Hugh knows better, has had first hand experience in the last months and shudders while he blinks at the screen. His fingers feel numb once he is able to place the number and closes his eyes against the sudden rush of blood in his ears.   
Naturally his mother has to call him now, when there is no time for it. His shaking doesn´t go unnoticed and while Bryan suspects it might be nerves, Mads knows better. He has had the same feeling, the same conversations but he doesn´t know much about Hughs family and that makes him pause. 

_Look before you leap_ , his father used to tell him in that calm tone he himself is known for nowadays and of course he didn´t listen. He never had listened to anything older and maybe wiser people told him on principle and he is by far old enough to make his life a mess for himself as his ever loving brother told him. Hugh is a different man than him and that has always held some fascination for him that turned itself into something else entirely over time. _It is a cowardly thing to not stand up for the things you want_ the same voice, that of his father - echoes in his head and he closes his eyes, counts to ten, tries to get his footing back before he lets himself be pulled under by a torrent he is not yet ready to face, or ever at all. 

“What?”

He asks and Hugh rolls his eyes while Bryan only sighs and excuses himself to check if everything is set up. 

“My mother wants to talk to me as soon as possible.”

Mads feigns nonchalance and fails to hide his own set of nerves firing away inside his overloaded brain. Hugh remains, despite the increasing noise behind and around them calm and that is another thing that Mads isn´t used to from the other man.

“And what will you do about it?”

He feels a little irritated when Hugh starts to laugh. Not a unpleasant sound but a vary little thing that borders on desperate and when the man turns to him, clearing his throat – well, he has to wonder if he is drunk or if he has lost it but is willing to give him another chance to explain himself.

“You will love this, really.”

He says and gulps in air like there won´t be enough in the room in the next minute or two.

“My mother, after I apparently missed her call – did send me a text. A text, can you believe that?”

Now the calmness is gone and Mads wishes for a smoke, cursing that it isn´t allowed for the umpteenth time. Well, fuck his life. With a gesture of his hand he urges Hugh to continue, mesmerized by the way he tries to will his curls into anything that could be described as neat while barely stopping himself from hopping from one foot to the other. 

“And if that isn´t enough, she also discovered the Internet. Did you know about it, it´s a new thing causing families ..”

He only stops when Mads puts a hand over his mouth and for a moment there he wants to bite the flesh beneath his palm in a fashion that is closer to Hannibal than Will.

“You are nervous. Fucking pissed, I get that. Just right now, now isn´t the time. I asked you what you wanted, didn´t I? I offered you another way. One you didn´t take, so are you with me, or arenß´t you?”

So blame him for sounding like a priest, he cannot help it. Hugh simply nods, his breath warm against the older mans palm. Yes, Mads had done that and he hadn´t. It takes him a while to calm down but eventually when Bryan nears them again and asks if they are ready, he couldn´t be more clueless of the meaning that question has for the both of them. Mads doesn´t answer.

“Yes.”

Is all he manages and Mads slings an arm around his middle that grounds him more than anything else in the world in that moment.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys at and after the con and a little more talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go again. I hope you still enjoy this and as always , let me know what you think. Thank you so much for the feedback so far <3

It feels like they stepped onto another planet, out of their skins, out of the universe itself and for some reason that makes Hugh grin broadly – that sort of being .. well of being not himself, of being what people want to see in him – ask him about Will Graham. He knows it isn´t really fair towards Mads but he feels a bit relieved, always has. Not that there aren´t stares, aren´t whispers behind or next to them and the looks, well – he knows all that but he is professional enough to blend it out, to ignore it.   
The flower crown on his head feels a bit heavier than it should once questions turn from what happens next between Hannibal and Will towards what has happened in real life. _Real life_ he thinks , real life is not here at this wonderful place where nothing but excitement and love for a thing have people united from all over the world. Real life is where he has to tell his son that there is nothing wrong with parents not living together, no matter what some people think or say, that he shouldn´t listen to them but to what his parents tell him and he wonders how that will go on and if they will make it all through this whole or in shattered pieces, ready to be swept up the floor and to be disposed of. 

He sighs when it is finally over, his smile weary and thin, eyes nearly falling shut. He is thankful for the hand holding his under the table but he knows that Mads is also a bit nervous a bit angry once questions get more personal but they are actors and so they do what they are paid for, have done nearly all their lives. Put a mask on, give a show. He can see that Bryan is delighted that everything goes over smoothly even if he doesn´t say it out loud to either of them. When they get a minute alone , just the two of them in a corner he blinks at Mads. 

Mads says nothing, just plucks the flower crown from his head and twirls it around his fingers as if the damn thing could say something to him, tell him how things are between them – are they good, are they bad or are they in between? Where would they be in two hours or two months. It feels like a train running through his head and he stumbles slightly over his words, wants to say something but clacks his mouth shut. 

“You know, that went better than I would have thought.”

Mads says , so frighteningly calm it makes the hairs on the back of Hughs neck stand for some reason. He isn´t used to that tone of voice from the other man, has seldom seen him angry or withdrawn but there is something. Something small and not really noticeable for anyone but him it seems but it is there and nobody in the world can tell him otherwise. He stares at the floor between them, feeling the need to say or do something rise again but he just nods.

“Yeah, it was rather smooth. Although I thought Bryan might suffer a stroke at the question if there would be on screen sex now. More than there is already.”

At that Hugh laughs, shakes his head and swallows the remark that it just for them anyways to explore such things. 

“So, what is it that worries you so.”

He says mildly and he winces as the flower crown he had worn during the panel is all but crushed between the other mans hand. He has a ratty timing, that much he knows already from his previous relationships, dating back as far as his first date back in the day where he told the poor girl that he wouldn´t have a penny on him to pay for the cinema they would be going and that they would need to climb over a fence. He still has the little scar on his knee from that and for a moment he wonders whatever became of her, if he has pursued her dreams or if they have been crushed like the innocent flowers on her way to adulthood. 

“What?”

He asks sheepishly in the here and now and he blushes a bit when Mads just simply pulls him close, body to body, only a hairs breath away. 

“I said that nothing is bothering me , just that I am a man of my word and if your mother wants to behead me, well, there have been others who have tried that. And no, I cannot be serious about that, runs in the family.”

Hugh just snorts.  
“You want me to disagree to that?”

Mads just shrugs. 

“Well I was hoping that but – no. It´s the truth. So we are royally fucked either way, if she hates me or not, isn´t that the case.”

Hugh can well see past the masks the other man wears now himself and so he leans in, kisses him and ignores the squeal and a camera clicking behind them as good as he can.

“She won´t. First she will tear me to shreds.”

He tries jokingly but hours later he is alone in the hotel room they share and his nerves are on fire, so much that he feels he will pace a hole into the floor. It was his wish to this alone, to be the person to take the blame even if there was nothing to blame and yes, he knew how idiotic that sounded even when he said it only in his head. There is nothing worse than the dial tone on the other end and he realizes it must be the middle of the night for them, almost hanging up again, but he doesn´t. The voice of his mother is loud in his ears and he winces for a moment, wishing he wouldn´t be so damn proud or complicated. He expects everything for a moment but not his mother telling him that his timing is probably the worst in the world. He stifles the giggle that wants to rise in his throat barely but manages.

“So, now you want to talk?”

She asks tiredly and when he closes his eyes he can practically see her shuffling from the bedroom as not to wake his father, traipsing down the stairs and sitting in the old armchair in the living room he wanted to burn even as he was a child. The click of a lighter makes him roll his eyes. She always had smoked when she was nervous. 

“For fuck´s sake, answer me son!”

“Mother!”  
He says after a beat and he practically can see her roll her eyes and waggle her finger at him.

“Don´t _mother_ me. Look, I admit that I was shocked -and still am a bit. Not because that it is a man or all the rubbish that might go through that thick skull of yours as far as I know you , and I do, because being your mother and all..”

He laughs and it sounds watery to his own ears and he feels the pressure falling away if only a little. 

“Yeah, I know – it ..I know.”

His thoughts drift to Mads who volunteered to go to some amusement park with all the kids and the woman and he thinks again how much he loves the man for the acceptance he can´t begin to understand and yet hopes to get someday. 

“I will not say that it is easy, or that I completely understand it, I will need time for that – more than a few minutes and it would be helpful to talk to you in person. Maybe you bring that man along. And my grandchild , too, if that is possible.”

She doesn´t even mention Claire and he is thankful for that because he knows that she wants to. Wants to ask so many more questions but like him is far to level headed to do so.   
“Yeah, I think that is possible.”

He says mildly, clutching the phone like a lifeline. 

“Good. Now, answer me why you didn´t tell me sooner and please keep it simple.”

It´s just his timing that then the door opens and Mads comes in, looking like someone has been trying to drag him through a bush by his hair and cotton candy is sticking to his cheek. _Timing_ he thinks around a snort before he clears his throat and answers, while Mads just moves out of earshot. 

“I didn´t know what I wanted. I was afraid of what I wanted.”

Behind his closes eyelids he can see her nod, taking a puff of her cigarette, oceans away.

“And do you know it now or are you still afraid.”

He has given that question so much that he answers it faster than his mother has anticipated or he himself for that matter. 

“I do know it. And I am terrified but I guess that is normal.”

There is a smile in her voice. 

“Well then, I guess everything else has time until your father is awake and I can ask him to sharpen my kitchen knives – just in case.”

He grimaces even if it is a joke. 

“Well, thanks for that image. But thanks.”

She still laughs after he has disconnected and he feels a little less alien than a few hours ago. His gaze wanders to the flower crown sitting on the nightstand and then on the man who seemingly fell asleep on their bed. He is tired himself, he realizes suddenly and he knows that everything can wait another few hours but it is the first time in a long while he feels whole again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And our journey goes on :) As always, let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading guys <3

That stepping onto another planet thing gets a whole new level of awkward when the news break that there won´t be a fourth season for them. It is not their fault, not that of anybody really they know in person but Mads can see it. The subtle change in Hugh. Where just a week or two ago he was downright giddy and happy he seems withdrawn and he not only managed to snap at everyone around them work wise but he also lost his patience with his son. Not that he didn´t beat himself up about it but still, there was something that he wasn´t saying and yet it was clear as day. It got to him, to his very bones , to that what one might consider a soul. 

Mads isn´t a man that runs from trouble and he has, in his younger years – openly embraced it, so maybe that is why he is standing in a kitchen with his hands balled to fists and broken glasses at his feet. 

Nothing that cannot be replaced, nothing that is worth more than a few bucks. It is more or less the argument Hugh and him did have a mere hour ago which now seems oceans away that has left them both bleeding inwardly. He feels it, too. That ache settling in his bones as if he had been in another bar brawl when all they have done was shouting at each other. His voice is hoarse.

“So you think this is a mistake after all?”

His own voice is chilling and anybody in close proximity of him would run for the hills. Anybody but Hugh who stares at him wild eyed and furious.

“Not everything in this world is about you or our little fling.”

Words are weapons. Knives and not with any less intent to cut when wanted. He tries to be calm, tries to see reason but he is only flesh and blood and he too gets hurt. Their has been a cloud over them , has been present since those damn news broke and there is no way in hell it won´t be partly blamed on them by people who have nothing in their lives but gossip. He wants to laugh but he feels tired and drained and before he knows it, he slams the door into Hughs face even as he can see the horror register on the younger mans face. 

He needs to get out, needs space before he can say something that will ruin what they have forever and he feels stupid for thinking that for once in his life is smooth sailing. It never was and never will be, but still he had hoped so much. He can hear Hugh say something but by the time he reaches his car and slams the door shut behind him, all he can hear is white noise because he is so angry that he cannot for the life of him turn his head, cannot be calm even if the world is about to end. Hugh on the other hand does the emotional thing people claim of never doing when they are upset because it is sort of a clice out of novels people also claim to never read. 

It´s a funny thing, all those things people never do and yet there are shelves and places filled and brimming with them Mads thinks, shifting into gear and stepping on the gas pedal. Also, there is that other thing people deny. The illusion of time slowing to a painful stop when something bad is about to happen, something you can feel but never stop. An accident waiting to happen and then there it is, slow and crawling like a snail. 

Three hours later he has no memory whatsoever about why he left his car in reverse today or why on earth Hugh choose that moment to stand in the spot he was standing in, shouting something, flailing for all the world to see with his arms.  
There is still that white noise that makes his head ache, his throat clamp together and then there is Claire looking down at him, screaming and furious because that is just who she sometimes is or always has been - to him at least . Still, he cannot hear her and maybe that is because of the collision and the sickening thud of a body against metal or just because his head is full of _why_. Why this all started, why Hugh couldn´t just keep his trap shut and believe in himself or them – why he actually listens of what people they never even have heard of sprout into the world through their computers or the mass media, which he guesses is roughly the same. 

He doesn´t even remember who said what first and he wishes to be drunk, wants the giddyness back , the whole being so in love thing that it makes you invincible. There is a hand on his shoulder and he looks up into Hannes face. It seems older now, more closed off somehow but maybe that is him.   
Maybe it always has been. God, he wishes to be drunk so that he maybe has a reason for all the emotions that come to the surface, that he cannot handle. He even starts to pray and there is that odd sentence in his head that he heard years ago from someone he cannot remember but the voice he hears clearly and it tells him that people usually learned to pray when they felt despair. That wasn´t even beginning to cover it and he felt like he might laugh at any moment, just go downright insane. 

Claire is still standing in front of him but she seems to have calmed down and just stares at him without saying a thing and the reason behind all that is Hugh, standing right behind her, a hand on her shoulder and a thin smile on his still pale face. There also is a nurse that looks close to tears because he isn´t resting like he damn well should be but he ignores her and slumps down next to Mads without saying a word for a moment. 

“Well.”

He starts but stops, coughs and Mads looks at him with a worried expression that he waves off.

“Remind me not to run after you when you are pissed and in a car?”

Without consideration for the slightly panicked nurse or the way Hanne looks at them while dragging Claire off into the general direction of the cafeteria Mads lights a cigarette with a trembling hand and inhales. 

“Has anybody ever told you that you are not funny?”

Hugh looks away with a painful grimace that indicates his two broken ribs but refrains from saying anything to the comment. He would have never thought that it might end like that or for a matter of fact that is something he has in common with Mads - how the hell it even came to that. He only knows that something in him broke when Bryan delivered the news to them that they won´t be picked up for another season and soon after that he had felt anger. Anger and loathing he had let out at the people closest to him and he had known even back then that it was stupid. He takes a deep breath, ignoring the nurse shouting at them and Mads dumping the cigarette into a flower pot.

“Are we good?”

It sounds stupid and vain in his ears, sounds as if he is floating in a dream when he is wide awake and has the bruises to know it. It was just another project coming to a close but it felt so different, so ugly and undeserved. His eyes fall shut.

“I don´t know.”

Mads says and his voice is calm but honest so Hugh nods and is reminded once again that they are in the cold light of day and that there isn´t a script that they rehearse, that there isn´t a chance for second or third takes. He hadn´t expected that to be honest but it still hurts.

“I really don´t.”

Mads says and lets his head drop against the cold wall of the hospital, watching when the fed up nurse nearly drags Hugh back into the room he came from. There is that voice again, telling him that people start to pray when they are in despair, when there is nothing left to do but pray, so he just does that, ignoring the world around him for a little longer.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on our journey goes. I hope you still enjoy this and thank you so much for all the support. As I said already on another story of mine - life got in the way recently but things are looking up and so the writing flows more easily. As always let me know what you think and enjoy <3

There is this thing about wishing to be somebody else. Mads wouldn´t say he never had thought about it but he does know that he doesn´t really dwell on it or ever has until recently. Recently he wishes to be in another body ,with another soul and another life. Maybe for that of a fisherman at sea , who works hard and cannot sleep without the ocean near. Maybe of that of a poet that has never much to eat but loves to write and feeds on that. He gives a snort. T.V is really doing his head in and he wonders why on earth he has started watching romantic comedies and soap operas. Right, he does that because he should sleep but cannot really muster it since that accident and although Hugh will be released in two days to come, he cannot quite shake that feeling of uneasiness from his bones. Hell, it has seeped into his very core and he remembers what he has done when he was younger when he felt like that. He had grabbed a duffle bag and stuffed everything of his into it and made a run for it. Those had been the days without families and responsibilities. He gives a sigh, stuffs out the cigarette in the ashtray in front of him and stretches out the kinks in his back when he sees Hanne and Claire returning to where he sits in the chair outside Hughs room watching crappy hospital T.V 

Hanne is calm and collected like always and Mads envies her for it at the moment, because he cannot be calm this time around and he half thinks that she will mock him for a case of feelings all of a sudden when in all of their married life he never as much batted at an eye when something catastrophic happened. Also, he is mad. He is mad at himself and the things he lets this man-child do to his heart when he once would have laughed about all of the drama. He can hear the voice of his brother inside his head, clear as day and see that damn smile on his face you are getting old and sappy, brother mine. 

“You look like shit.”

Claire says and he wants to say something to her but Hanne just gives him that look. The same look she had given him when he broke the vase her mother had gifted them to their wedding. The thing he hated and that had accidentally slipped through his fingers when they had moved. It was needless to say that she hadn´t believed him for a second. That look had changed its meaning throughout the years but it never had been something good so he swallows the words lodged in his throat and his head snaps up when Claire actually says that she wants to talk to him and if Hanne would be so kind and look after the kids for them. Hanne just nods and she says nothing more to him before she goes. 

“Is this the part where you kidnap me, murder and dispose of my body?”

He whispers to her once Hanne is out of earshot an Claire rolls her eyes at him.

“I swear you have been too long on that show. The both of you.”

Her face has become harder but it isn´t unkind. It is more resigned than everything and that is a look Mads knows himself quite well. He has been resigned a lot of times and some of those times he had been thinking about doing stupid things. He had never done it because there always had been people to catch his fall.

“You know, for a moment I hated you.”

Oh, god, he cannot do that now. By the look she gives him he must have said that out loud and he motions for her to continue. 

“Oh you have to do that now because I will not have another chance to say it to for some time. I am moving away for a bit. I really tried but I cannot do this. Not now. Not for a while and not here.”

He stares at her, eyes wide and questioning. She laughs and it isn´t spiteful. It is still in that resigned tone and he wonders for a moment if Hugh had known that because that certainly would have been something that would have explained the way the other man had acted. Again his question is answered by Claire and it is in that tone again. Clipped and resigned but at least honest. He can live with honesty.

“I was so angry at the both of you, you know and I said a lot of things. Did a lot of things. That is why I have to get away from it all for a while. I sometimes wish I could be like Hanne but I am not and I never will be.”

He wants to ask what that means but he doesn´t dare to interrupt her in her rare spill of honest words and confessions. 

“Being who I am I told him that I plan to take our son with me for that six month period and him being him brooded over it until he snapped and took it out on someone else – that someone else being you.”

Mads grits his teeth until he feels them crack and knows he will get an headache from it but instead of shouting at her like he means to he just nods and this time it is her who is surprised. Hell, he is surprised at himself those days. Somewhere he has read that the human body got through changes every seven years which makes no sense to him but could be the one thing that would explain a lot of other things. His headache gets so much worse. 

“Is that the point where we hug it out?”

She laughs then and shakes her head, holding out her hand for him to shake. It strikes him as odd until he gets the meaning behind it, It´s a gesture of surrender, a farewell of sorts and he says nothing when she walks into Hughs room and they exchange quiet words he cannot hear despite straining to do so. He needs sleep and to think about things. He doesn´t want to see Hugh for a day or two, he needs to eat and he is sure the other man understands him. 

At least he hopes it and when he comes back two days later and alone, he is surprised that Hugh practically hauls him into the hospital room by his collar so fast he gets dizzy. There is a palm pressed to his mouth.

“Not a word, please.”

How could he even say something, he thinks and it must show in his eyes because Hugh blushes a bit, looking ruffled and casts his eyes down before swallowing and starting to speak again, his bag already packed and ready to go home, wherever that might be. Mads just motions for him to continue, even not saying a word when the hand that had him silenced is moved away.

“I was an ass.”

Hugh says and he raises an eyebrow, not interrupting the man, this could be interesting after all.

“And I was a bit whiny, bitchy you might say. Just not myself. You can interrupt me anytime if you like.”

Mads cannot help it, the corners of his mouth twitch up in a smile and he shakes his head.

“No, because I am really enjoying it. You grovelling, that is something I really, really like right now.”

It comes out harsher than it is intended but he cannot help it, still raw and open from a fight that hadn´t caused much visible wounds and still hurt like a bitch. 

“I get that. I do.”

He cannot stand the look Hugh gives him with watery and tired eyes, so he grabs the bag from the hospital bed but is halted in his actions by the younger man.

“Claire said you talked?”

His grip on the bag gets stronger and he wishes once again to be someone else, someone that doesn´t have to answer that but he is himself and so he nods.

“She talked, I listened. I didn´t want to interrupt her, you know. Golden opportunity and all that bullshit.”

Hugh chuckles.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Mads looks at him then, eyes alight with another question.

“Do you?”

It´s a question that is not really only about Claire. It is about all of it, about them and where they stand, what will happen in the months to come, what will come the next day but he knows he isn´t the only one thinking like that, feeling like that, even if it is harder for him to express that in words. He isn´t really good at words when it comes down to the life that is his own and he mentally kicks himself when he starts after watching crappy T.V thinking like it, too. Instead he focuses on Hugh.

“Yes. I do. Actually I think it might be good for us to get away from it all. You know not just for a holiday.”

He stares for a moment, just to make sure he got it right what the man in front of him is saying.

“That sounds good.” _Real_ , he wants to say but refrains from it even if only barely.

Hugh fidgets with his hands like he always does when he is nervous and Mads cannot take it, takes them into his hands and grips tight. It is a strong grip, no soft hands no soft curves. He has chosen his side, drawn his lines and he is okay with that and he can feel in the grip that is strong around his fingers, just as calloused that Hugh has made the decision too. He is glad for it and for the kiss that is pressed to his lips. It isn´t a soft kiss but demanding and reassuring of things to come and he is okay with that. He is in fact so okay with all of that that his hands wander into Hughs hair, grip a little to tightly and a little too demanding for a public place but he doesn´t care until there is a nurse behind them, loudly clearing her throat and reminding Hugh that she has his discharge papers at the ready.

“Let´s get out of here.”

Hugh smiles against his lips , nodding briefly towards the nurse and snatching the papers from her fingers while Mads takes the bag. Maybe his life is just right for him, he thinks all the way to the parking lot, secretly wondering if they are to old for shenanigans in a car and hums.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just felt the need for porn. Really, it is for the guys *nods* I only want their best , don´t we all?

Dreaming is for children and lovers. Hugh doesn´t know where he heard that before and in the end it doesn´t really matter because he still dreams and he isn´t a child. Now, dreams are tricky things as one might imagine because sometimes they seem so real the temptation to just dream on is so huge.   
Right now though he knows he isn´t dreaming and that everything surrounding his still aching body is very real.   
He likes that, the moments he is hyper aware of the things he focuses on, that make him feel _alive_. Even when he was younger he at least enjoyed those moments to a degree but that was then and he had grown up and he had up heaved his life once again. He was okay with that, more than so. They all were, surprisingly and he wonders if he indeed is dreaming for a moment, cursing under his breath, which earns hims a slap on his left thigh that stings. 

“Ow.”

He hisses and scowls down at the man currently busy tracing a pattern unknown to him from his hipbone dangerously close to his throbbing arousal. Mads hadn´t really been kidding with not being able to wait for long and his constant monologue of what he would do once they were safe and shielded from prying eyes hadn´t helped Hugh in the slightest, which of course he was certain of Mads had know all to well. He really doesn´t remember a time when he hated the invention of red lights more.

“That´s for not obeying. We have talked about this, haven´t we?”

Have they? Oh, yes they have – well , he has listened ,all the blood in his body rushing swiftly southwards and his imagination running wild. It was an actors curse, really – to see the things another person described in glorious detail. His imagination was one thing but now he could feel it. The sheets tangling around his white knuckled grip, the sheen of sweat making his body glisten and pooling his his bellybutton.

“Yes.”

He breathes out even if he is hardly able, closes his eyes, only to to open them and his mouth on a shout when a strong and steady hand closes around his dick. Not to hard but also not pleasant. Mads wants him to be there, once and for all and he wants that, wants that so much he feels dizzy. It is a feeling he wouldn´t be able to put in words. That sudden rush of his head spinning and his heart beating almost painfully against his chest. Still, he wouldn´t want to miss it for the world, never again.   
For all the words running together in his head, nothing leaves his mouth but a low long drawn out moan and Mads saviors it, that lack of control, that slip which makes this so much more than a very good dream. There is a slight tremble in his hand as he reaches down and grips onto a bundle of hair, making the older man hiss. 

“Well, look who has claws all off a sudden.”

It would sound almost smug if Mads wouldn´t also be breathing hard and irregular, just as wrecked as him. Two could play that game and because he was a little bit mean he decides to let his toes ghost over an especially ticklish spot on the other mans body, making him shudder and let go of where he a few seconds ago had a firm grip.   
The triumph about that however is short lived because Mads wouldn´t be himself if he wouldn´t rise to a challenge, as futile as it might seem at first. 

Another reminder that he isn´t dreaming is the body moving above his own, forcing his legs apart until it starts to strain. He can live with that, he wants that but he isn´t really good on the mouth and brain coordination when someone places bites on his throat, no doubt leaving visible marks that will yet again remind him that this, this is more than a fling. Maybe that is were that inner voice of his , the one he used for Will a lot on screen sees the danger.   
The danger of falling endlessly and landing harsh, broken bones, broken heart until nothing more is left to dissolve - until he is _nothing_.   
Reality argues that he isn´t Will and so he snaps his eyes back to the man pressing kisses between his legs, opening him up with lips that were able to spit the filthiest words and still make them sound like prayers from above. 

“That´s it darling. Let them hear you.”

Oh he knows that Mads loves that, making him quiver and moan, shout until he is hoarse and leaving no doubt to anybody daring to listen what makes him utter those sounds. Broken words, stutters and gasps, Adams apple bobbing up and down because he is slowly being pulled under. Not that Mads is ever rough with him. The hands gripping him tightly and bruising the tender skin he always hated for not really tanning are gentle in their own way. He can feel every ridge, every callous patch of skin making him understand that they have all the time in the world. 

A few years ago, he might have laughed about such an overused figure of speech but that had been another life altogether and he is kind of proud that he is able to admit to being glad of leaving that life and the unhappy person in it behind. There is an almost painful squeeze on his right arm and a pair of eyes looking into his own.   
It´s not that people never looked at him in his past. No, they have always looked and they have stripped him and judged, maybe made their mind up about him without ever exchanging a word with him in the end. 

That is another thing that connects them both almost more profoundly than the mere physical bond which also is useless to deny. They are both a little touch starved, hungry for something that is hard to name but he lets it slide, presses his mouth forward and exchanges air he wasn´t sure of having in his lungs with the man above him. Mads is far from quiet, either although he isn´t as loud as he can be. 

“Focus.”

Hugh is once again reminded in a voice between gentle guidance and the harshness of life has etched into it. So he does, lets himself yet again be pulled in and under without question, without fear. He moves them ,rolls his body from under to top, only slide down, move his hips and smiles with mischief that has the older man chuckling softly. 

“I should have known you wanted to be in charge here. You just can´t yourself, can you.”

Of course it is a tease and a lie to top it off but the laugh he feels bubble up in his chest still makes it´s way past his lips, even when they finally connect. Mads watches him, how his mouth falls open, how his fingers twitch restlessly on the other mans body and how they are grabbed securely. There is no place for doubts here, no thought that is unpleasant or negative, just the sounds of their labored breathing intercepted with sounds born out of bone deep pleasure. They tumble and turn again and he feels it again, the sheets , now soaked and clinging to his skin and the reality of it all once he crosses his ankles behind his lovers back, digs his nails into a pair of strong shoulders to leave marks of own.   
The steady pace quickens and no more teasing barbs are exchanged, for which he is more grateful than one could understand. His eyes want to slip closed, the heat in his stomach threatening to burn him inside out if it doesn´t peak soon but the hand on his jaw doesn´t let him, wrenches his face until they are nose to nose, foreheads nearly crashing once his back bows and a few moments later he can feel the pulsing of the other man´s release in his body and yet he isn´t willing to let go until they fall into a graceless heap albeit breathing normally. 

The room comes into focus again and it changes, transforms in it´s hues now the mad longing and the the haze of pleasure is fading but still it is real. The clothes strewn around, a knocked over chair in a corner and- for no reason at all, a left shoe on a windowsill. He makes a mental note to never ask about that because he isn´t sure he even wants to know, so he just turns and ignores the part of his brain screaming for a shower and the wetness on his body for another minute, just lying there and drawing patterns on weather worn skin he vows to kiss and explore every inch of. 

So maybe he does deserve the halfhearted swat at his head for actually saying that out loud but there wouldn´t have been fun in just _thinking_ it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we might be nearing an end to this story, not yet but I sort of see it on the horizion (yes I know it´s cheesy to put it that way but I feel that it might be in the next 3-4 chapters, but who knows. I remember telling a friend once something about _short_ and look where we are now ; ) )   
>  Still - enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think :)

Plans are funny things. The human mind comes up with them over and over and sometimes the owner of said mind wishes that some planes never would have been made. Usually when said plans have failed and fingers are pointed, words are had. Something always comes up and plans are changed. They are both used to it with their jobs and the little vacation they have to get back to their normal lives.   
It´s never much, barely enough to take a breath and blink until it is over and some other project calls.   
Maybe it´s hard to understand for other people outside of the industry, Hugh muses. He has given up on explaining everything running through his head to other people. He has given up on being friendly to people he really loathes, although it just came recently to him. Mads jokes that it´s a heritage thing and he scoffs every time about it but inside he smiles.   
He does that a lot nowadays, smiling for simply no reason at all and he feels fine with that. Fine with that happiness blossoming in his chest, fanning out slowly from his heart all the way down to his spine, curling in his toes. 

They haven´t really discussed how life will go on for them but they have made plans. Mads may be the more easy going guy but he also is a man knowing what he wants and how he gets it- if only there weren´t the dreaded planning and his habit on forgetting things. When Hugh had stumbled over his planner tucked away in a kitchen drawer behind the Pasta Spoons, well, that explained a lot as to why he almost always looked like he got to location _just_ in time. It was charming, but also annoying. 

“What do you mean, you are on still on your way?”

The reception is more than fragile and so are his nerves. There are things he will never understand about the other man. His calmness for instance when he will have to board a flight soon.   
He can imagine the eye roll the other man gives in the back of a taxi, miles and oceans away

“Relax, everything will work out just fine.”

He cannot help himself gritting his teeth, staring into his mothers garden. He remembers running through there as a child, scraping knees and chasing ducks across a pond, covered in mud. Funnily enough he would forbid something like that for his son to do. His son isn´t with him and the twinge it sends through him is sudden and sharp, making him grab his phone a little tighter.   
They had made plans, real solid plans and still there had to be something called life in the way.

“Stop over thinking everything again. I thought we are past that.”

Mads doesn´t yell and he isn´t angry. It takes a lot to truly anger the man and he has tested that in the past. 

“Yeah, I know. It´s just.. not what we had planned.”

The sigh over the line is audible but not the sigh of a frustrated man bur a very tired one. He can relate.

“Does planning ever work out? For either of us?”

There is humor their in that voice he came to love so easily and he tramples down the part that suggests that this cannot and will not last. That he needs to wake up and take a step back. He tells that part of him to fuck off for good and hopes that maybe someday it will listen. For now he tries to smile and bring it over the line to the other man. 

“Not really.”

He says and wishes himself back to the times when phones still had a cord you could fiddle with. Since he hasn´t mastered time travel yet, he mutters a curse and he just rakes a hand over his newly shaven head while he mutters something about phantom locks that makes Mads chuckle.

“I know it should have been different.”

There is a hint of regret in Mads voice for they had planned on flying to visit Hughs mother together, stay there for a few days and then travel to his parents. An all around trip to relax. Naturally some shooting schedules for Mads newest project had been changed after they had booked everything. So back to the drawing board it had been.

Hugh hated that but there hadn´t been a thing that could have been done about it and so they both just went with it. Everything was still in order and the separation wouldn´t be long. Not like the weeks they had to spend apart due filming, barely seeing each other. They both were thrilled to see each other again and Hugh had almost felt giddy with something as ridiculous like a spring in his step.   
That feeling lasted until this morning when Hugh checked his phone and saw that there had been six missed calls from the other man which had alarmed him only further because Mads wasn´t really the one to call for nothing. 

_Talking_ , he has so snort at that – oh they had talked, alright. They had done a lot of talking over the past weeks and months, had posed for pictures, smiled into cameras until there were spots dancing in front of both their eyes. It wasn´t easy, this thing they had and the names people not knowing a thing about them dared to put to it. It had been expected, really but still it wasn´t easy and hadn´t gotten easier with time. 

For neither of them. Still, they tried. In his case the line was drawn when his son asked him why he would marry a cannibal. It had taken him a moment to understand that the boy had obviously read some idiotic tabloid and was confused if not to say concerned about what his father was up to. He sighed again at the memory.

“What did I tell you about over thinking things?”

The smirk in the voice on the other line is audible as well and he feels himself smiling despite his frazzled nerves.

“I miss you.”

It´s not what he is expecting to hear. He expects a joke to lighten the mood, to say that Mads didn´t mean it like that but he knows better now. Oh yes, they have had enough time to get to know each other outside of work and it hasn´t always been smooth sailing, no matter what the plans had been. He is glad for that, for the reality but sometimes he wishes they would be normal people, with normal jobs and normal hours. 

The honest truth though - that is something else. It´s that neither of them wants it by the end of the day this normal nine to five life. He cannot for the life of him either of them image in an office typing away on tax reports or something like that. 

“So, about marrying a cannibal, you are not considering that, are you?”

The tone is playful now, a lot lighter than it had been a few times prior in the conversation. Still, he scowls a bit because Mads can hide his feelings just as well as himself and sometimes, especially when they are parted it makes him mad, even if it only is a little bit.

“No, not really.”

It´s not because he is in panic. It´s not because he wants out of that thing they have. It´s just that he doesn´t feel obligated to and doesn´t want to be bullied into another marriage if he still is barely out of the first.   
He thinks fleetingly of Claire and what she might have thought about all of that at first. He doesn´t want to think those things but he does. They flicker through his mind like bursts of lightning only to vanish again. 

“You still with me there?”

He blinks, rubs a hand over his face. 

“Sorry, I got side tracked a bit. My mother just can´t wait to meet you, that´s all.”

It´s not a complete lie, really, it isn´t. There are just other things on his mind as well. Claire doesn´t battle him for custody but they still need to figure out when and what and how, the little details that he loaded to discuss because it would mean that someone else might hear and that it could be slaughtered in the media. He worries about that constantly, even if he would never admit it fully.  
The less articles he spies, the more alert he is. _Survival instinct_ the little sarcastic voice in his head pipes up and another tells him that he could talk to the other man about those things as well. The only problem with that is that he himself isn´t actually the talkative type unless he is a little drunk.   
Mads has children as well, he knows that. He likes them well enough and they in turn like him.   
They are just like their father, well – at least the boy, from what he has learned so far. It´s enough for now. He can understand that they want to stay with her mother while the man are on a vacation   
(And god knew the _look_ Hanne had given Mads when he had told her that had spoken louder than words. It almost had hurt how hard he had blushed) 

“So I guess phone sex is out of the question?”

Even though he can feel his ears burn he tries to keep his voice calm and collected although he fidgets. Damn that man and the laughter that follows. It doesn´t really help the situation. Not one single bit. 

“I am in my mother´s house.”

He says scandalized in an last effort to maintain dignity - tugging at his collar and breathing a little faster. Thankfully his mother is out shopping for groceries insisting that he use the time to rest until his _lover_ will finally arrive and join them. His ears burn brighter by remembering her knowing look and that she is a woman that is never fooled. She doesn´t comment on why her grandchild isn´t with him because she knows as willing Claire is to let go of the marriage she is still a mother by heart and so she doesn´t blame the other woman. She never really was judgmental that way or at all and Hugh is thankful for that. 

“I hate to break it to you, but there has to have been Sex in that house, you know..”

He almost squeaks and nearly drops the phone.

“You Prick.”

Hugh hisses, face as red ad the shirt he is wearing and a dark chuckle comes through the line, settling deep in his chest.

“Have a heart. I am bored and I miss you. We haven´t seen each other for weeks.”

The truth in that sentence hurts so much he feels wetness stinging behind his eyes and shuts them quickly.

“I know.”

He wishes he could say more but he doesn´t. It´s enough anyway. By now they know what the other means even if nothing is spoken.

“I have to go.”

It´s short and efficient and not meant to sound as harsh as it comes across. Mads has that way about him but he loves him for it anyway. Not that he says it out loud to often in the light of day, he just isn´t that kind of guy, thank you very much.

He doesn´t really know how many minutes tick by when the front door opens and his mother comes back into the house not carrying a single thing.

“The market ran out of groceries, mother?”

He jokes in his best Jeeves voice and she just blinks at him with the long suffering look a mother has adopted after raising a child and shakes her head. 

“No, but some nice young man offered to help me carry those heavy bags home.”

Mads doesn´t say a word when he shuffles into the house, a smile on his face and a glint in his eye.

“Change of plans.”

He simply states before _winking_ and depositing a bag on the corner table that normally holds a vase with flowers before leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek and only his mother clearing her throat a little too loudly behind him stops him from cursing and shouting in happiness all the same.

Yes, he thinks. Plans were funny things.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are again my lovelies :) As always let me know what you think and thank you so much for the feedback so far. Now I got a storyline thought out and all which _still_ kind of surprises me. Also , I think - for shits and giggles, one of these days I will buy myself a shirt that reads "I write Short things - Volume 1-70 in stores now" (It kind of became a running gag on the way a while back)

Fate is something that shouldn´t be regarded as impossible. At least Mads always believed that – even if he never would admit it, not to anyone and for a loing time not even to himself. He hadn´t had the hardest life but he also hasn´t had a candy coated one. Candy coated lives are boring anyways he thinks, smoking a cigarette and trying to get his whirling mind under control.

“That I live to see the day.”

He turns to see Hugh grinning at him so wide that for a grotesque moment he has the irrational thought that the other mans face will split in two halves. He snorts. He has definitely done too much filming in the darker parts of the industry. Maybe he should settle for romantic comedies. 

“You need to breathe - even if I like the fact that I can make you laugh so hard over my surprise by seeing you standing in my mothers garden lost in thought.”

It takes the older man a moment to register what has been said to him and another for him to turn around and grab Hugh by his shoulders, all but shoving him against the door separating the garden from the house.

“Are you suggesting I am a brute not able to think?”

Mads voice pitches low and he is pleased for a moment to feel the other man tremble before a cheeky laugh bubbles from him. It is kind of a relief to see Hugh happy. Not that it is a foreign notion to him, seeing Hugh happy and smiling but it had so far been a seldom occurrence.

“I might have suggested that. Might.”

Fate, Mads thinks for another moment when Hugh sneezes and it throws him back through space and time and to another film set far away from where they are now, such different men in a seemingly different word.

“Damn allergies.”

Hugh mutters and he seems so young all of a sudden that Mads gives in and touches his nose with the tip of his finger, grinning evilly when there still is pretty blush on the younger actors face. Naturally Hugh sneezes all the harder and the moment passes leaving Mads back where he was thinking about fate, thinking about why they are where they are and if it will ever get easier. 

“Still, you like it here.”

He hears himself say gently, eyes fixed on a cloud in the distance, cigarette in his fingers nearly forgotten until he feels a burn. 

“Yeah. I do. Despite you trying to light yourself on fire in my mothers garden. Please, don´t. She is rather fond of her roses.”

Mads says nothing, but stubs the cigarette out in an unused flowerpot, smacking Hugh upside the head and chuckling. He likes that, the easy going days between them but he knows that there will be rumors, that there will be pictures and headlines. They both know that. 

“I am glad that you are so happy.”

And Hugh is - happy and free in his childhood home, a sanctuary far away from the rest of the world and it leads Mads back to thinking about his own life and the people in it. He never claimed to be a good person, never thought of himself as someone bright and maybe even angelic. It wouldn´t fit. He knows he is damaged , has scars and wears them well , knows that he also inflicted some wounds on people that will never heal. Everybody does that in life, if they want it or not , it sort of happens in his experience and always will. That is life. That is fate. 

The problem with fate is its pull on a persons heartstrings and the tearing grip it has in some cases on the human soul. 

“I am sorry.”

That makes him look up and loose his sight of the cloud he had been eying only to come face to face with a worry stricken grimace that has replaced Hughs jovial smile. 

“Sorry? For what?” 

He shouldn´t ask, he doesn´t want to and yet he does. 

“For making fun of you. I just..felt.. you know, free. Childish.”

Mads only shakes his head, places both hands on the side of Hughs face, hands steady and sure.

“Bullshit. I wouldn´t be mad at you even if you would run around naked and chasing bees to collect honey.”

At that Hughs face turns from sorrow into confusion.

“Do I want to know where that came from?”  
Mads only snorts.

“Doesn´t matter right now. I was trying to make a point.”

A point that he thought was clear but he understands Hugh, understands how the world is sometimes a cruel place and how it never stops turning, no matter which fate awaits the people stumbling on unsteady legs through it. 

“We´ve been through this. I know.”

Hugh says and blinks, sneezing again, raking a hand through Phantom locks that are no longer there. 

“Doesn´t matter either. I was thinking about..planning something – you know. The whole moving thing. But my ..well – planning skills are not really my strongest suit.”

 _No kidding_ Hugh wants to say because he had seen Mads plan first hand and he had never seen so many Post-it notes strayed across every surface in his life. That was something they also would need to discuss because as much as he loved the man, he wouldn´t go through the hazard of plucking sticky notes from his hair again. Not if he could help it anyhow. 

Hugh is thankful for his mothers timing, for her routine – something the men don´t usually have being actors and jetting around the globe, living out of suitcases and on restaurant food most of the time. A home cooked dinner is something he still enjoys. He can still remember days from his childhood and sees himself sitting at the same old table with his mother, only with less gray hair and him so much smaller.

“I have to say I am glad you didn´t try to defile my garden.”

Hugh almost chokes on his wine, trying to swallow and not spit out a cloud of red liquid over the pristine tablecloth. His mother only narrows her eyes at him momentarily in a gesture he knows just as well.

“Let me rephrase that for you, son. I am glad your partner decided the empty flower pot next to the door was a good place to put out that cancer stick and not some poor unsuspecting piece of lawn.”

It also has been one of the many talents of his mother to say things and meaning completely different ones. Neither Mads or him say anything but they help themselves to more mashed potatoes than either of them has had in a long time, much to his mothers delight and the absolute horror of knowing that neither of them will be able to sleep if they don´t take a walk.

Call it Fate or something else but Mads knows what he believes and what he doesn´t. He knows what he has always known and thus always believed, come rain or shine. Other people might laugh about what he sees as signs for fate and so he keeps it to himself most of the time. Fate can have many forms if you still were optimistic and hopeful enough for that sort of thing. For some people fate comes in the form of a pair of blue eyes that always almost crinkle in a certain way, etched in an equally lovely face or very differently – like the roar of an engine embedded in an old muscle car. 

In the past, Mads has encountered fate in many forms. Holding his newborn children, for instance or more recently a look exchanged with the man by his side. They are both awfully quiet while around them the day slowly gives it´s way to the night. Darkness doesn´t bother them, nor does the chill in the air around them make either of them move from the spot they are rooted in after their walk. It has been a nice walk, filled with quiet conversations and the one or other lingering kiss -things people in love do all around the world all the time and yet they both know are maybe a bit more precious for them in light of what they do for work.

What has stopped Mads first and then Hugh who stands by his side now is the patch of land in front of them. It´s literally nothing but green grass an turf for sale. Steep in some places, a bitch to walk over it with shoes and impossible to not get dirty and a patch of wild flowers in another corner that seems a bit out of place. 

“What?”

Hugh whispers, curious and a little bit afraid. He knows the man standing beside him well enough to understand what he is thinking, what he sees already on that godforsaken place in front of them. 

“Just thinking again.”

Mads says and keeps on staring at the scenery before them with images running through his head he cannot seem to stop. In his minds eye he sees a two story house, a pond and a bench and he knows that it is something that for sure would fit nicely in some of those awful romantic comedies Hanne always watched and he claimed to hate when in secret he enjoyed them once in a while.   
He wouldn´t admit it under torture but still , there was something in those movies that kind of struck him, made him long for it on the days when real life was harder than it had to be.

“I am almost afraid to ask but what are you thinking about while staring at this?”

The answer to that question comes out without doubt and to his own surprise without much shame.

“Fate.”

He half expects Hugh to laugh at him, call him crazy or ask him if the mashed potatoes of his mother have caused Mads some brain damage considering how much they ate prior to their walk. Instead of any of those things Hugh is calm and death serious when he speaks,

“I was afraid of fate, you know? It scared me so much it nearly made me turn away and run.”

Mads says nothing, just turns his gaze away from the piece of land in front of them that has his imagination put into overdrive all of a sudden to focus on the younger man standing beside him. He watches Hugh closely, almost too close and so he takes a step back.

“Is that so?”

Hugh nods, scanning the piece of land himself now, no doubt having caught on what went through his mind.

“And now?”

Mads isn´t really sure if he wants an answer to that question, feels his heart beat against his ribcage almost painfully when Hugh takes a deep and wholly needed breath. 

“Now? I am still scared shitless. Pardon my French on that - but still. I am willing to give it a chance seeing as things are already far from reasons some people understand.”

It´s not the answer Mads would have had expected but he also isn´t disappointed for he has always known that fate is a cruel master sometimes and sometimes a punishing jailer. He has seen and experienced both sides of that but so has Hugh.

The air around them has gotten cooler and it has gotten almost too dark to see. Still, the shape of the wildflowers can be seen if one of them would bother, right now they don´t. 

“Want to head back before we get lost?”

Hugh suggests with a smile and grasps the older mans hand in a sure and steady grip that belies his fears of ever getting lost around each other which Mads is glad for.

“Yeah, we better. Or your mother might think we are _frolicking_ ”

Hugh shakes his head and grumbles something but Mads knows he isn´t mad. They are both relatively happy in the little bubble they are floating in right now but it still isn´t enough of sugar to his system to mask the irony of the statement which comes unbidden to mind.

 _Faith in Fate_.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter :) As always enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think <3

Nerves are the thing everybody claims to have lost but still knows that statement to be a lie, because really, the human body just wouldn´t work without nerves. It´s stupid things like these that Hugh thinks about in moments when he sits in office that hasn´t been properly aired, the atmosphere stifling and not in a good way. He is sweating and freezing at the same time but then again that could be his nerves, awful things that they are. 

He has felt seldom like that in the past years. Or he doesn´t really remember that. No, scratch that – he doesn´t _want_ to remember those moments because every single time he felt like that, well he also had the fear of dropping dead to the floor after a full blown heart attack. _Nerves_ , he thinks with distaste again, snorting and wishing for a smoke.

The little _no smoking_ sign above Mads head, who is sitting opposite him taunts him merciless and he glares at it before starting to tap his foot again. Mads just sighs.

“It´s not a adoption. We are purchasing land.”

It is just like Mads to be so calm and collected about that but he also knows that the other man is just a bit nervous as well, be it for after telling his brother about the plans of building a house from the ground up in a country he has never lived in before for longer than a project or two, had been told he would be insane. Mads hadn´t protested in the slightest and even over the phone and Mads shoulder he had been able to _hear_ Lars roll his eyes. They had switched into their mother language then and Hugh had silently cursed, vowing to finally learn that damn language for himself. 

It was maybe another thing that could be attributed to nerves that when people spoke in another language and glanced at you, you might think that the discussion was about you, even if the people talking to one another talked about socks. The train of thought that all takes in his head makes Hugh chuckle.  
“Please don´t tell me you have chosen _now_ to go off the deep end.”

Mads says it fondly but there is truth in his words and worry, Hugh knows by now. They are both only human after all, even if the press might think otherwise sometimes when it comes to dishing out hard words without thinking twice but they have long since learned to live with that. His face breaks into a smile, Mads narrows his eyes, stretching his legs.

They have been sitting on hard chairs for two hours after being stared at by a stocky little woman who for the all the world looked like Hughs old arts and craft teacher Mrs.Pearson who thought that the epitome of art would be noodles glued on colorful paper. 

Sometimes those pictures haunted him in his sleep when he watched one of those kid shows with his son. The smile drops from his face for a moment, not long but long enough for the other man to notice. He gives a tired wave of his hand, wiping sweat of his brow. Just when he wants to say something the woman returns with a stack of forms clutched tightly under her arm, looking harried.

Mads and he exchange a look that equals a shrug.

“Gentleman. I am happy to announce that the particular piece of land is still able to be purchased.”

Now Mads looks at her like _she_ has gone off the deep end, because - _really?_ It was a fucking field and not some century old building that needed remodeling. Still, they both sense the _but_ that will come in one form or another, it just lurks around the corner.   
His nerves are acting up again and he stands, towering over the woman a whole head, a glare firmly in place.   
He might be an actor but he still loathes wasting time , no matter where it was. Time was a precious thing and it had the tendency to slow down when dreadful things were on the horizon – he knows from the more painful experiences in his life , recent or in the past. Just like his nerves those memories are a part of him. He must have a terrifying look upon his face because the woman just rights her glasses and clears her throat. 

For a moment there he wants to open his mouth and yell at her to get to the point but the hand in the small of his back stops him. So he just closes his eyes and counts to ten. She just nods at both of them and herds them into an even smaller office that holds one desk that is cluttered with files and also is surrounded with bookcases, also filled to the brim.   
Whatever the downsides of being an actor are, in moments like that he is glad that he doesn´t have a job like the poor woman all but falling into her desk chair. She clears her throat again.

“I beg your pardon it took me so long to retrieve the file but nobody really took an interest in the property for so long , honestly – I think most of the people around here have forgotten about it anyway.”

Her mouth twitches in something that could be a smile or a frown and her nervous system had yet to decide which was which. Hugh was all out of sympathy because the fresh shirt he had donned the morning before they had come here to see if there actually was anything that still could be sold by now was soaked with sweat due to the stuffy air in the rooms they were in. He wanted a shower, something to eat and maybe a stiff drink. 

He must have said something of that out loud because the woman flushed a bit and Mads laughed.   
_Bastard_ , he thinks fondly, mouth twitching and cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

“I am sorry, it just has been a long day.”  
It isn´t really true because they have slept in after a long night and then Mads had clapped his hands with all the glee of an overexcited five year old and well, Hugh had been scared again. Mads had said nothing, just reassured him what the agenda for the day was and that he still could say no, although Hugh had been sure that the man had known his answer would be yes, like in so many other things he doesn´t want to talk about or think about at the moment. 

He has to focus.

“Well, apology accepted.” 

Again she clears her throat, that little _but_ still hovering in the air between them like a pesky insect that needed to be swatted away. 

“As I said, the property, that isn´t really the problem and I am sure you are more than able to pay the price it is on the market for but you..well..you do know , that people like you – well, they attract..uh..certain..”

Ah there it is, the pesky little insect called _but_ and boy, isn´t it just stinging already. Hugh would be offended, really he would be if he wouldn´t know that she has a point. He knows the people around here, knows that they wouldn´t appreciate it when suddenly journalists trampled through their gardens , banging on their doors to get information because someone famous moved in.  
It´s a funny thing about nerves, the tells some people have. An actor notices them on another maybe a bit faster he muses , watching Mads fingers clench at his side, gripping the armrest of the chair he is sitting in a bit tighter. His mask doesn´t slip out of place, his eyes still stay warm, although his fingers speak a whole other language.

“I assure you we aren´t really that interesting to the press and nobody has to fear for their safety or their privacy. And we are willing to pay for everything that might be damaged , unlikely as it is to happen.”

Apparently it is not the first time Mads had a conversation like that and he makes a mental note to ask him later about it but for now he watches. He watches the woman behind the desk nearly shrink back in fear at such a well thought through statement while handing over contracts that Mads reads after putting on his glasses. Were the situation not as tense, he would tease the man at his side without mercy but that also can be saved for a rainy day. 

A day when after he has had read all those words on all those pages for himself, his fingers don´t shake while he signs the contract after the other man has done the same. It´s not just a signature, it´s a big step into something bigger and his nerves betray him when he drops the pen twice before handing the paperwork back to the woman.  
She might be one of those people who really have no nerves or are just numb enough to not let them show to much because she only stiffly congratulates them and lets them know that everything that they will need will be mailed to them, sealed and approved. 

They are on their way out when Mads turns on his heel and looks at her with his best Hannibal like expression.

“I am glad we could find a solution, however - as much as I hate such trivial things, you might consider that Mr.Dancy and I also value our privacy and will defend it.”

It´s a subtle threat but it is a threat none the less. Her eyes go wide for the fraction of a second and she swallows, before nodding.   
Nerves, Hugh thinks and then he allows to let the joy he also has bottled up inside of himself take over every other thing that might exist in his body, nearly dragging Mads off to the nearest Bar.

“We need to celebrate!”

And by the way the other man laughs, he knows they are both on the same page.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! So to speak. There has been going on in my life and it left me little time to dabble in my writing (which I regret) Still , I hope you enjoy this story (or the part of it) Like always <3

_Colors_ , Hugh thinks – all of a sudden, denying forever that he is giggling into his drink, which he is, because it is his tenth or so. He may have lost count, may have lost his brain along with everything else on the way to this bar and yet he still has the feeling to see it all clear as day. Brightly lit. Colors are what makes the world an interesting place. Musings of an artist. He giggles again into his drink. 

“You are drunk.”

Mads says through another sip from his beer, a cigarette dangling from his fingertips like he needs to state the facts. It sometimes drives Hugh mad, if only a little bit. There are a lot of things that drive him mad about the other man, if he thinks about it a little longer. Mostly in a good way and sometimes not but he reasons that in every relationship there are the days where the only color instead of the lovely sky blue you tend to see when you are just falling in love and nothing can go wrong, all you can see is deep red because your significant other did something stupid. 

“So?”

Hugh says and plucks the cigarette from Mads fingers just to taunt him a little. If he would take a closer at himself in the mirror across from them, he would have to agree with the other man. He _is_ drunk. Drunk man, his mother and Claire always said , are dangerous because like children they tend to tell the truth, unmasked and unfiltered. 

“Well, they are right with that.”

Also they seem to say things they are thinking about loud. The color in his cheeks rises, his pupils nearly black, the color of his eyes nearly gone. He knows that feeling all too well, the heat pooling in his belly and it has nothing to do with the drinks they both have consumed.

“If I say that I have another celebration in mind.. you know..”

The overworked bartender gives them a look that says it all. There is no need to pretend but Mads is glad that nobody comes up to them or snaps pictures. Maybe the excitement of that has passed as well. 

“Are you suggesting that I help you lose that god awful sweater you are wearing? I am on board with that, just for your information.”

Leave it to the older man to sound as dry as ever, even if he is three sheets to the wind. His eyes are dark and interlaced with a desire for something else, something that has nothing to with the bar they are sitting in, nothing with the future they have planned ahead, the thing they are really doing. It blows his mind, always will to a degree. Right now though, right now he has only eyes for the man sitting across him, his skin a flushed color, hair wild.   
He feels much younger than he is, ignores the gray strands littering his hair these days and the fact that his kids are no longer toddlers. 

“My sweater isn´t that ugly.”

Hugh slurs and pulls him in the here and now again, eyes twinkling. Ah, the game is on. The bartender snorts, clearly disagreeing what concerns the Sweater. It is the ugliest piece of clothing that he owns, the Brit knows that as well as he knows that has been a present from his mother, hence it not having ended up in the bags he more or less donates to goodwill long ago.

“Maybe it´s not newest fashion, so what?”

He empties his drink before he shakes his unruly hair and Mads laughs. They haven´t been that carefree in a long time, maybe never. 

“Nothing. Let´s go. Take the celebration elsewhere.”

It´s not nothing and the sky above them isn´t blue, isn´t red with the dawning of a new day yet. They are somewhere in between time, almost poetic , almost a sign. Still, they stumble through the streets, make it back to his mothers house somehow. If you would ask either of them, they wouldn´t know and more important – wouldn´t care. 

“We have to be quiet.”

Hugh reminds the other man without being quiet at all. He never was good at following his own orders when he was drunk, he guesses. His eyes travel through the otherwise quiet house and he knows should his mother know that they are back and what they are up to, she will ignore them for everyones sake and isn´t he glad for that.

Mads steadies him softly, presses a kiss behind his ear and he almost squeaks.

“Why don´t you and I make a deal? How about we just try and forget the world for a moment.”

The blush crawling onto his cheeks is more than red, he just knows from the heat he feels, his entire face flaming. 

“We cannot forgot the world, now can we?”

He doesn´t even know why he says it, squeezes his eyes shut and waits for a snarky comment to come but the only thing that comes his way is a kiss. Sometimes he wonders what his emotions would look like in such moments. If they would be vibrant colors , so bright that everyone around him could see for miles or if they would be more subdued, like the lips of the man now kissing him, who indeed is trying to free him of his Sweater.

“A little help?”

It´s not really a question and still he answers it, a grin firmly in place.

“No. You have to work to see what is underneath that Sweater. Didn´t I mention that?”

Now Mads has never been known for his patience but the flush covering his face is a fascinating mixture between arousal and what could be possibly interpreted as anger – or frustration. Maybe a little bit of both. Hugh laughs again, dances away and flings the offending Garment over his head into some corner of the room he is not interested in. He is however interested in the man in front of him. 

“What was that?”

Oh, Hugh thinks _shit_ , because he is still thinking about colors and he has half a mind to wave it off because he really isn´t sure if he should say something like that out loud but on the other hand he knows he can blame the drinks on whatever leaves his mouth so it is a win-win situation. Also they are building a life together, not only a house. It should scare him more than it does. 

“Colors.”

He mumbles and he can understand that Mads raises his eyebrows, not stopping fumbling with his own clothes.

“I was thinking about colors.”

Hugh hears himself say out loud and he curses himself only slightly. Who on gods green earth would think of colors at a time like that? Him apparently. His eyes flutter shut again and there is nothing but calming blackness until clever hand roam over his heated skin, draw patterns.

“I could paint on you, you know – a masterpiece.”

Mads always sounds so confident, even when he is half drunk and only functioning on the basest of terms. They stop speaking all together after that and they are both fine. Not quiet, not too loud but in sync that their skin moves in simple rhythm, something never unlearned no matter how much one vows never to have Sex in their life. It´s a lie, made up because of broken hearts and broken vows, something they both have been through more than once in their lives. 

When Hugh is turned so that he can glance out of the window behind the other mans back, he can see the first orange rays of early morning sunshine, blending in with the color of the older mans hair. He always liked to observe and he titters, sharing lazy kisses with the person he loves so much, ignoring the skeptical look that gets him before Mads finally starts to move. Gentle this time, no more hurried. 

The soft moans that fill the slowly brightening room from what Hugh is able to see through closed lids as both their breath gets shorter are the sweetest sound that could come from such actions. He is sure of it, thighs trembling, and now, now he has to see. Blackness swallowing the color of the other mans eyes, a lip that is normally rosy white from strain before everything else in his field of vision becomes a blinding white. And he is okay with that, more so than he had ever been.

There are some quiet moments, breathe regained, positions altered before Mads no doubt smug voice carries over to him through the pleasure haze they are both still in.

“Found you favorite color yet?”

Instead of answering Hugh smacks him in the chest and notices with some regret that their proably isn´t a color in the world for what they have.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well..that has been a long journey and like every journey things come to an end. In that respect I want to wave at every single One of you and say a heartfelt thank you.  
> For the lovely comments, for the support and everything in between. Thank you so very much - and if you enjoyed this little peace of fiction, it makes me very happy.

Epilogue

 

A House is not a home until it is filled with life. They both know that and they have been there,done that in their own way already and they also, well, to be truth – they left a lot behind. And Hugh is finally okay with that, fine.

Calmness has settled over him that he would have scoffed at a year ago or two. Things changed, lives went on – some unnoticed others not. There wasn´t much trouble anymore, the press had moved on, like they always did. Still, there was something. A little itch under his skin, right beneath his breastbone, locked away.

Something that made him fall back on his insecure nature that only part of his journey he yet had to overcome himself. Also there were rumours that _Hannibal_ could start up again. Not that he minded, he never had and never would because that project had brought him peace. 

It sounds so cliche that he wants to hurl. Instead he focuses on the cans of paint at his feet, tries not to mix up the colors for the rooms. There weren´t much things they argued about anymore, either.  
Not significant things, nothing that could threaten their relationship.

He still is a bit shocked about the twists and turns his life has undergone but he also is pleased. If someone would have told him ten years ago what would happen in his life he would have laughed in that persons face. Not that he can grasp all of it sometime but he is -and that on a daily base – assured that everything is right the way it is. 

“Are you thinking about using that paint anytime soon?”

Mads has always been quiet as a cat and Hugh jumps nearly ten feet in the air (which Mads will roll his eyes at every time he tells the man just how much of a cat person he is.) before whirling around.

“I don´t know. I can´t decide. Well, I know we decided...already, it´s just...”

It´s just that a house is not a home unless it is lived in, really lived in. Not put together from some interior designer that gets a free pass at IKEA and a huge sum of money to do whatever they want to said house. The thought alone made them both shiver but it´s not the itch he feels under his skin. 

It also isn´t the realness that this is all happening to them, that everything will be just alright for two people in love. No. It´s something to do with the house they are standing in now. It´s just that he has to blink to realize that this feels for the first time like something he really wanted, really needed to be himself and that it took so long to find his way. 

He knows that some people have it harder and that he made it harder on himself but he likes to tell their mutual friends about that time in his life as his stupid years, which he knows gets a scowl from Mads but whom never corrects him because he kind of agrees on it. 

It had cost them nearly a year to get the house built and another six months to have all the permits ready. There is no magic in getting permits for a house, that much had they both learned as well – and that journalists could be very athletic when it came to sniffing around. The electrical fence around their premises had quickly put an end to that kind of Olympics.  
It still amuses the hell out of them both when they think about that little occurrence.

“Nothing like always when you think too much?”  
Mads tries for a stony face but he has to laugh and soon both of them snort and giggle their way through a joke that is basically none.

A house is not a home for many reasons at first. It doesn´t start with the color of the rooms, it starts with the feeling you have when you take a step into it- that feeling that this could be something great and not something that makes you run for the hills like that first rat invested hole Hugh lived in once upon a time which still gives him nightmares.

They came a long way if you consider that there hadn´t been a house to begin with but an idea that some people would think of as utter madness. The older man had just shrugged and told his partner in crime that they were actors after all and that madness was something that was part of their job descripton.

“Maybe.”

He gets out, wiping tears from his eyes and smearing paint across his entire face which only sets them both off anew. They are both hopeless in some regards and maybe they will stay that way forever.  
It hadn´t been all sunshine and rainbows for them along the way but that hadn´t been expected.  
If they were both honest with themselves they would say – in unison, or apart from each other that nothing had been expected.

It had been faith, sort of – a chance meeting , maybe something else but who cared anyways a few years down the road and with life finally being something close to domestic for them and the people they loved. It had been hard at first, naturally.  
There had been a lot of harsh words and a few friends along the way that got left behind.

A hand on his shoulder nearly makes him screech – not that he would ever admit to it, no sir. He didn´t screech, that was just the door that still needed a little oil and that they would repair when they had the time. They were both still busy, no fallout , no career run into the ground.  
It was a relief for them and fodder for the haters out there. 

“Stop thinking. It could hurt that pretty head of yours.”

Mads says, a cigarette dangling from his lips which Hugh stares at as if it might have personally attack him or his lungs.

“Really?”

He asks, eyes narrowed, brush in hand, raised midair like a sword. He can almost smell the comment the other man wants to make but they are interrupted by excited voices coming down the hall.  
Despite having left some people they both loved and still love behind to be were they are now it would have been harder to keep something up that couldn´t be saved. 

All four of them – Hanne, Claire and the both of them came to the same solution. It hadn´t all been hugs and kisses and nobody expected that. Actually Hanne had broken out into hysterical giggles when she first had read that they both of them would move in together and later when Mads had confirmed it for her, well, she had swallowed around the lump in her throat but said nothing else, just like Claire. Hugh understood that but it still had made him choke on his own tongue for every nasty word which had ever been exchanged between the parties involved. Mads was just the same – only that he was the one of them that didn´t really talk much.

There was a joke among their friends that they both would have to have a jar to put money in if either of them would ever speak more than two sentences when annoyed at anything and that it would fill up rather quickly. Hugh had suggested it could be used for repairs or a collage fund.  
Mads had been more practical and suggested a bigger bed for them since they wouldn´t be getting any younger.

Hugh didn´t have an ounce of pity for the man once his mother had smacked him upside the head with the biggest spatula they owned. He still blushes when he thinks about that talk and the blush gets even deeper when he remembers that they did indeed buy the biggest bed they could find just on principle.

What made a house a home wasn´t only that lived in it but also the little things here and there – if someone asked him or maybe them both. Things that are worthless to others, things a stranger never would take a second look at if he would pass. There were many examples in their little house and there would be more to follow, he was sure of it. 

Like that ass ugly leather armchair Mads was so fond of or his beloved bookshelf, barely held together by glue and good will from way above. 

Surely they still argued about a lot of things that meant nothing or everything at some days but that was also made a house a home in his mind. He still remembers a family from his childhood quite vividly like they would be standing in the room with them, even if it is just his imagination.

He cannot help it because the memory is just branded into the back of his mind as a warning of what he doesn´t want, never wanted – some of the few things he had been sure about his entire live and never doubted. It wasn´t that he hadn´t liked those people, they just hadn´t seemed real. Real people fought, real people were loud and messy at times, they didn´t care about the things other people said about them or their family when it only came to appearance and nothing more.

He cannot remember their name but he remembers the way they behaved, how perfect they seemed and how much his mother had liked them at first, tried to strike up a friendship between both of their families without success. It hadn´t worked out in the end because trying to keep up a lie instead of facing the things life threw at you was impossible and always would be. 

A house becomes a home over time, not out of the blue or sheer will. It needs work, just like the wildflowers they really kept and that are thriving.  
The gentle hand on his brings him back into the present like it does often when he feels like the ground under his feet will open up and swallow him whole. He guesses everybody feels like that sometimes.

“How about we postphone the color thing a day or two?”

There is a smile in the other mans voice and just like that he smiles himself , shaking his head at his failed attempt to be perfect for just one day. A home doesn´t need to be perfect even if Hugh secretly just knows that Mads hates the loose floorboard in the kitchen just as much as him - especially when he stubs his toe on a Sunday morning in the search for glorious coffee. 

“Do you think that is a wise idea? There are very demanding creatures wanting their rooms in colors that hurt my eyes and make me want to drag them to the nearest clinic because I am so very concerned for their eyesight.”

The voice that answers him with a warm and inviting laugh is home as well. He gets it now and he feels lucky that he gets what some people never get their entire lives but he doesn´t mention it at every opportunity because that just isn´t his style.

“Do I need to bribe you with dinner?”

A grin slides across his features and he cannot help but throw his head back and laugh. That also feels like home, just like the house surrounding them. The voices draw closer, a loud noise in the otherwise silent house and it finally makes him put down the brush in his aching hand, take a step closer towards Mads until they are nose to nose, breaths mingling. 

“Only dinner?”

He asks into the space that is practically non exsitant between them, paint flecked hands hovering above a pristine shirt.

“What do you mean only dinner? Are you trying to be funny?”

The easy banter nowadays is something that makes everybody around them roll their eyes where ever they go but neither of them cares anymore. The definitions of home he has in mind cannot be explained he fears and the list that encloses is long and grows.  
Not that it matters.

It doesn´t matter when they walk down the stairs arm in arm and are accused of being gross by teenaged voices, it doesn´t matter when one of them forgets to water the plants on the balcony yet again and it doesn´t matter when they try to steal away the comforter away from each other at night in a bed that may be a little too big for the room it sits in beside a wardrobe. 

They are home. Finally.


End file.
